Left Behind
by richard the pedantic
Summary: Not everyone left the Matrix after the end of the war. Some of those that didn't found that their lives became very different. Chapter 40 is, finally, up.
1. Background Information

Greetings to whomever.  
  
Disclaimer: I don't own the Matrix; if I did I would have made all the agents wear chef's hats.  
  
And, once again, if I've ripped off someone's idea I apologise.  
  
*******************************************************************  
  
Left Behind by Richard the Pedantic  
  
Chapter 1: Background Information  
  
The bus was unbelievably quiet. Not surprising really considering the late hour, but still, usually when I'm on a bus, crowds of dead eyed people swarm the vehicle with awkward, jagged shopping bags that dig into your legs. If you're really unlucky, there'll be some pestiferous child charging up and down the isle pretending to be a plane. The temptation to throw them through one of the windows stays with you for the entire trip, well, it stays with me anyway.  
  
Tonight, as I have said however, was different, the only other person on the bus was a homeless person who was passed out and sprawled across the seat at the back, and the driver of course, who looked too tired and bored to remove him.  
  
And so I waited, staring absently out of the window, it was hard to see anything except my own reflection. On the streets however, I was able to identify three prostitutes and a suspicious looking man carrying a crowbar. I felt a short stab of sympathy for anyone who was unfortunate enough to cross his path tonight.  
  
It was the way of the world. Only the elderly, the scarred, criminals and anyone else who was unlucky enough to be over twenty five remained in the Matrix.  
  
Finding out had been a disorienting experience to say the least. It started about three months ago, I was on my way to work; minding my own business, surprised by all the nervous looks on the disturbingly few pedestrians, when all of a sudden, this flood of people, or programs I guess I should say, anyway, they came from every direction, all of them looked the same. The next thing I know, people are panicking, throwing their briefcases into the air and running about screaming, I wasn't sure why at the time, I was having enough trouble accepting the presence of the huge number of smartly dressed clones that were closing in about us.  
  
I didn't have time, at the time, to figure out what was going on. Within seconds I found one of the program's hands being rammed into my gut, this grey liquid seemed to engulf me, and then, for all intents and purposes, I died.I can't remember what happened in the time between that and me suddenly waking up in the middle of Mission Street with a huge crowd of other, similarly confused people. There wasn't so much panic and screaming this time as there was unexplainable relief and joy.  
  
Then the news came, the unbelievable, science fiction worthy news, that for centuries, mankind has served as a power source for a race of machines that had created a virtual world known as the Matrix for us to dwell in so that we wouldn't write letters of complaint to the local council regarding housing.  
  
Then we were told that anyone who met the right requirements and wanted to leave that Matrix would be freed. I tried to get out; it was the first thing I did, after staring at the T.V screen broadcasting this information with a mixture of confussion and fear obviously. Alas it wasn't as simple as saying 'I want to leave'.  
  
Anyway, almost a month later, these people stride into the city, all of whom dressed in the leather attire of the conventional fashion victim, (I tried the look myself once to be honest, it didn't work out).  
  
Yeah well anyway, they said that they were from the 'Real world'. The place that me and thousands of others were dying to get to. There was a line almost two miles long of people who wanted to be 'un-plugged' as they called it (I was quite near the back, rather unsurprisingly.)  
  
I waited for almost eight hours, all the while I saw numerous, despair stricken faces walking past me. A pestiferous corner of my brain refused to tell me anything else except that I'd soon be one f them.   
  
And guess what, I was right. One look at me and two leather clad guys give me some speech about never freeing a mind once it reaches a certain age, if they did, I'd go insane. They also told me that they, at first, thought it would be different if people already knew about the Matrix; the person they tested this theory on apparently spends her days rocking back and forth and bursting into tears at random moments.  
  
Needless to say, I was pissed off; I'd waited eight hours to spend two minutes in the company of people who effectively told me to piss off. Why they couldn't have just shoved up a large sign that said 'People over 25 don't bother asking because you'll get turned out on your arse.'  
  
I left with as much dignity as I could muster. When I got home I smashed my fist against a wall, almost breaking all my fingers at the same time. Immature I know, but I was angry, and the only one who got hurt was me.  
  
And so my life went on, I went to work, watched the news, ate, drank, pissed, crapped and felt bitter about being left behind in this dull, depressing shell of a world.  
  
The strange thing about living in a world that isn't real is, rather surprisingly, that nothing seems all that real. Consequently, I have spent many a night, going out, walking amongst the seemingly content people who laugh and mingle with their friends, listen to a new breed of preacher that belongs to a new, failing religion that worships the machines. The purpose of these trips is to try and recapture some of the life that has been torn from me.   
  
It never worked though, not at first at least, no doubt this is going to sound clichéd and unspeakably pompous but I always felt detached from it all, almost above it. I used to live happy and free with the rest of the happy, content people of the Matrix. Then I found out it exists and suddenly everything I'd see just looks like a figment of my imagination. Even my body wasn't real, not what I'm walking around and complaining in anyway. In reality I'm laying in a gelatinous pod in the middle of God knows where, having all my body's energy being sucked from me, and being force-fed dead people.  
  
And so that was it, for a short time, which felt like a decade, I walked around the city, living a life which I thought would drive me to insanity. The harsh reality that reality was out of my reach clawed slowly at my sanity. For a while at least.  
  
After a few weeks, a month maybe, I began to realise that nothing had really changed, and that even if the world wasn't real, I was stuck there and might as well make the most of my life. This in turn led me to the bus, and that in turn, lead to me to the real insanity that followed.  
  
To be continued  
  
P.S. To Sulkdodds, if you're reading this, any resemblance to 'Paradise Lost''s early chapters will wither and die by the next chapter, trust me. 


	2. Unexpected Occurrence

Thankings to all reviewing persons, replies are, hopefully, at the end of the chapter.  
  
Hmm, the page setup seems somehow different, oh well, that's not important.  
  
P.S For disclaimer purposes, I don't own any non matrix stuff that someone else owns.  
  
Chapter 2: Unexpected Occurrence  
  
The next part of my tale starts in pretty much the same place as the first one finished. I was still on the bus, waiting for my stop, in dire need of a piss when, rather annoyingly, the bus stopped to pick up a new passenger.  
  
I examined the newcomer for a few seconds. Quite tall, male, short untidy hair that resembled a well used mop. He looked about eighteen or nineteen. He rested his hands on the back of the seat and seemed to stare lovingly at his own reflection. What I had here, was a fine example of pomposity.  
  
I'd known thousands upon thousands of people like him in my high school days; it wasn't that long ago actually now that I think about it. Only eight odd years. How I hated them, always annoying, insulting and even throwing rocks at those they deemed 'inferior', (a group of which I was a not so proud member.)  
  
Needless to say, numerous rocks to the head, ribs and stomach had all but ruined my high school days. I did manage to push one into a ditch though on one occasion, it's a small thing I know, but it improved my mood no end.  
  
Anyway, I'm drifting from the subject, I turned my head back to the window, and he continued to stare at his own reflection.  
  
The homeless person woke up as if by magic when we reached his stop. I wondered for a few moments how a man in his position could afford to waste money on bus journeys. This thought was quickly banished however as the bus came to life once more with an awkward crash, (the driver had, very slowly, driven into a tree.) It took us almost ten minutes to get back on the road.  
  
Miraculously, I was able to hold my bladder until I reached my stop, which was, somewhat annoyingly, also the pompous looking teenagers stop.  
  
I know I shouldn't have judged on appearance and bad experiences involving others, but with gallons of urine in my bladder just yearning to be free, I was, understandably irritable.  
  
I thought he'd gone far from my sight when we finally got off the bus, which was good, because I couldn't hold it any longer. I urinated upon a nearby chestnut tree and promptly apologised to it. (Stupid I know, but if someone pissed on you wouldn't you want an apology?)  
  
Anyway, I emerged hastily onto the street and cast a quick glance around me; no one. I started walking the last 50 meters to my house. I started thinking about the Matrix; again, it seemed to be all I thought about at the time. Then again, it was the most interesting thing I could think of to think about so I didn't really care.  
  
My house, or the digital coding that I lived in, broke through the shroud of darkness, aided partially by a flickering street lamp. I walked to my door, inserted the key, twisted it, and all of a sudden:  
  
"Why do you do it?"  
  
The sudden break from the silence scarred the shit out of me. I turned around and found myself staring at the pretentious teenager from the bus.  
  
"Where the Hell did you come from?" I asked angrily, like many people, I don't take kindly to being startled.  
  
"You didn't answer my question. It's understandable I guess," he seated himself upon the front gate; "emotional responses cloud rational thought and consequently dictate your actions. You look confused, why?"  
  
I paused for a few seconds. This was a highly bizarre situation, and one I was unaccustomed to. It took my brain a while to comprehend the situation and formulate an answer to the question in a witty and powerful fashion.  
  
"I'm not used to strange people trying to argue psychology with me in the middle of the night."  
  
"Experience makes almost everything boring. Admit it; this is the most interesting thing that has happened to you today."  
  
"I, uh," I paused again, still trying to accept that I was having this conversation, "yes, alright it is. Goodnight."  
  
He didn't seem to get the blindingly obvious message.  
  
"That is because it has never happened to you before." He paused for a few seconds, "I've seen your kind before. You feel that your life is meaningless because the Matrix was revealed to you. You feel that everything in the world that was real, that meant something has been torn from you. You feel like you're in a nightmare you can't wake up from; don't you?"  
  
"A lot of people felt like that, and a lot of people, myself included, got over it." I said this in a harsher tone of voice then I intended. It was late and I wanted above all to eat something and pass out on my bed, but at the same time, he was right, this was the most interesting thing that had happened to me all day.  
  
He pushed himself off of the gate and began to walk towards me at a needlessly slow pace.  
  
"Just because you can't get un-plugged, doesn't mean that you have to be stuck in your monotonous shell forever." His tone had changed, he sounded a lot like he was pleading with me, "there's another life. Another way to escape your prison."  
  
"And how do I do that?" I asked mockingly, "by giving you my car keys?"  
  
"No," my last sentence had apparently amused him, "by ascending."  
  
I took a few steps towards him. This unexplained and awkward situation was becoming almost entertaining.   
  
"Ascending eh?" I was humouring him, "I saw that episode of Stargate SG1 too, couldn't you dream up a more original deception?"  
  
"Doubt," he paused for a few seconds after saying this, "again it's understandable. You know that there are programs that rule certain aspects of the Matrix right? The air, the sea, the buzzards etc?"  
  
"Yeah." The slightly more sensible tone the conversation seemed to be taking peaked my interest.  
  
"Not all programs do what they're supposed to; I was once the program that governed the plant life in a small village near Cambridge. I was replaced five years after being written. I should have returned to the source and been deleted, but as I'm sure you can understand, I didn't want to die, and here I am now."  
  
I nodded as he finished his last sentence, once I had properly absorbed this information, a question came to mind.  
  
"Why are you telling me this?"  
  
"There's a group of us, a group of programs that refuses to abide by the rules laid down by the system. We have ascended to the point where we are above the countless people who'll bend to any form of oppression so long as their creature comforts are cared for."  
  
"You haven't answered my question."  
  
He paused for a few seconds; he looked like he was trying to decide if I was mocking him.  
  
"You can join us and escape from the monotonous, pointless lifestyle that I know you hate."  
  
"I hate to break it to you Floyd," (don't ask me why I called him Floyd, I just like the word) "but I'm not a program, as you already know so again I'll ask; why are you telling me this?"  
  
"You're no more human then I am. The human part of you is lying in a pod in the middle of nowhere. Everything about you that is 'you' is standing here talking to me. Your residual self image as they call it is essentially a program, and if you agree to my proposal, we can remove that from your body, which is barely alive as it is, and you can join us."  
  
I was silent for what I now believe was a matter of minutes. The situation, once again, seemed insane. Here was someone who I'd just met and he was, assuming that he was telling the truth, offering me a permanent 'out-of-body' experience. Needless to say, I was more then a little confused, and more then a little sceptical.  
  
"Don't answer me yet." His voice sounded hopeful, "you're tired and hungry. You should be well rested and sated when you make this decision. I'll come back tomorrow and you can see the full benefits of my offer."  
  
"Sure." I said, still feeling confused.  
  
He left; I went inside, ate a crudely prepared ham sandwich and passed out on my couch.  
  
To be continued.  
  
Right, now for the moment you all probably skipped to the end early for.  
  
Replies:  
  
Angel-of-lightness: Forgotten characters are good fan fic material in my experience. If all goes well I'll be able to break through the pestiferous obstacles of life and read chapter thirteen today.   
  
5 hours later: All is done and so is my reading of chapter 13, good, strange and good  
  
Agent Josie: This is going to take me a while to answer:  
  
Ahem  
  
Fine  
  
Fine  
  
Yes, I'm not going to say what though  
  
Define murder  
  
Some were  
  
Yep  
  
Yep  
  
Insanity is what happens when the world changes colour.  
  
Lincolnshire  
  
?  
  
Glad you enjoy it.  
  
Stripedsocks: Thankings, at last I manage to impress someone with my use of words. Hooray! 


	3. A drive

Right, where was I?  
  
Thankings to all reviewers. This story seems to be more popular then 'Army of exiles', which is good I guess. Oh well, replies are at the end of the chapter.  
  
Chapter 3:   
  
I woke up at seven a.m. the next morning, and got up two hours later. I never liked getting up early unless I have to. I never usually did anything worthwhile in the extra hours, just stumbled about the house looking like a zombie's passport photo and rummaged about in the fridge and got cold as I decided what to eat.  
  
Anyway, it was Sunday so I treated myself to an extended rest, got up, shaved, showered, brushed my teeth, arranged my features so as to appear presentable to the general public.  
  
The fridge and cupboards were both half empty, consequently I couldn't satisfy my stomach's desire for a tuna sandwich. Instead I had a bowl of cereal, I can't remember what it was but in the grand scheme of things I guess it's not that important.  
  
Strangely enough, I didn't think too much of my bizarre conversation with the plant program the night before. I think that at the time I assumed that he was just a delusional youth who tried to impress females, or males depending on which way his sexuality directed him, by telling them that he was a program. It had been known to happen. When I thought about it however I doubted that he was trying to seduce me.  
  
I considered this thought whilst I consumed my mystery cereal. During the next hour my brain was occupied in trying to determine the cause for the unspeakably high figure on my gas bill. I think that's what I was doing when I heard a knock the knock on the door.  
  
When I opened the door, I was surprisingly surprised to find him standing on the other side. I had expected this, but a part of me didn't really believe that it would happen.  
  
"Much better" he said instantly, "now you are fit to make the decision."  
  
I stood silent for a few seconds, struggling with a confussion that was becoming disturbingly familiar to me.  
  
"What decision is that?" I finally said.  
  
"Come with me."  
  
I'm not sure why I went. This sounded like a scam of some description. For example, I go with him and get beaten to death by him and a few of his friends. Alternatively, I go with him and my house gets ransacked by a few of his friends. I knew that this was a possibility, even a probability, but I went anyway. (But not before slipping a kitchen knife into my pocket. If I was going to die, I was going to take a few of them with me.) Maybe I wanted to die.  
  
Seeing him outside my house was not as surprising as finding a jet black Porsche resting silently outside my house. The confussion came flooding back as I saw it.  
  
"If we were going to harm you then I would have shot you when you opened the door, or last night maybe. You should learn to be more trusting."  
  
"Who's we?" I said a little harshly, trying to retain some of the dignity that had been torn from me thanks to the shocked expression on my face that came when I saw the Porsche.  
  
"You know the answer to that question."  
  
He was right, I did, or at least I thought I did. 'We' probably referred to the 'ascended' ones.  
  
"By the way," I said as I climbed into the car, one hand still gripping the knife in my pocket, "I didn't catch your name."  
  
"Manticore," he responded plainly as he climbed into the driver's seat and donned a pair of sunglasses, whether they were for practical or pretentious reasons I couldn't be sure, "I didn't catch yours either."  
  
"Eri…"  
  
"Wait," he said, cutting me off, "if you choose to be free, you must shed the symbol of slavery that has been forced upon you.  
  
"I wouldn't call my name a symbol of slavery."  
  
"If you choose to join us then you'll more likely then not soon see differently, if you don't you can keep whichever name you wish. Now you must choose one."  
  
"Um," I paused again, there seemed to be no way I could do this without humiliating myself, and it was hard to think of a name that was both suitable and interesting.  
  
"Wanderer" I said as forcefully as I could.  
  
"It's good." He replied emotionlessly.  
  
I scanned his face for a while, waiting to see if he'd burst out laughing. In the end he didn't. The journey took longer then I expected it to. I thought that we were going to some run down, abandoned building in some equally run down, abandoned part of the city centre. In the end though, we ended up driving past a seemingly endless collection of fields and forests.  
  
Most of the journey also passed in silence. Manticore said that all questions would be revealed when we arrived at 'The Destiny'. This was his answer to all two of my questions.  
  
We eventually pulled over on a reasonably level area of dust that looked like a hastily built parking space. To the left there was a forest of what looked like pine trees.  
  
"This way" said Manticore as he set off into the forest.  
  
The walking portion of our journey seemed almost as long as the driving portion. It was equally quiet. There was nothing in the area to suggest that there was nothing for the next few miles but trees, more trees, leaves and yet more trees.  
  
Since Manticore wasn't up for conversation, I became engrossed in thought. Consequently, I almost didn't notice that Manticore had stopped. He started to speak but didn't turn to face me.  
  
"This is it, the destiny, the place where you must decide whether or not to leave your old life behind and join the ascended ones."  
  
"It's a tree." I said with traces of humour in my voice, as well as irritation, not to mention fear.. If I was to be beaten to death there was a good chance that it would happen now.  
  
Manticore glared at me for a few seconds before walking to, and somehow, into the tree. I stood staring in disbelief for a few seconds, my mouth hanging open in disbelief. It took me a few moments to realise what had happened, and slowly edge towards, and into the tree.  
  
To be continued  
  
A bit of a short one I know, the next one should be longer. Right, now for some replies.  
  
Angel-of-lightness: Glad you enjoy it. Bah! Bastard situation I have with negligible credit. Oh well, grapes are duplicitous things, and, much like chocolate digestives, you can't stop with one. One with regards to food can be a disgusting occurrence. Yeah.   
  
Agent Josie: May death rain on the moron who doesn't like Spike. Glad you have enjoyed thus far, and I can't help my poor memory any more then I can make it snow on Tuesdays. Right, now who the hell is Spike?  
  
2. Sad.  
  
4. You're not trying.  
  
If this confuses, read my reviews of 'Things can only get better we hope' and it will still confuse, probably. 


	4. Choice

Right, as per usual, replies are at the end of the chapter, thank you to all reviewers and onwards to chapter 4.  
  
Chapter 4: Choice  
  
It wasn't what I expected.  
  
Then again; what can you expect to find on the inside of a magic tree? I guess I was, at the time, expecting a dark, wet place with lots and lots of wood.  
  
What I saw was very different. What I was standing in looked like a cross between a 50's nostalgia restaurant and a ludicrously clean, and empty, nightclub. The floor seemed to alternate between a stereotypical metal floor from a factory and a black and white tiled surface. The floor also seemed to stretch halfway up the walls.  
  
There was a bar, which looked normal enough, except for the impossible geometry of the stools, whose legs seemed to twist and curve in on themselves to create weird and wonderful patterns. One appeared to be suspended from the ceiling.  
  
The ceiling itself was just a seemingly endless black void that also covered half of the walls and met the floor in the middle.  
  
There were three faces, all of which were staring at me. The ones that were closest to me looked amused. No doubt seeing a mere mortal gawk at the surroundings that conflicted with his preconceptions was amusing to them.  
  
Manticore appeared from somewhere behind me and began to speak, (thereby startling me once again).  
  
"Impressive, isn't it?"  
  
"I think impossible would describe it better."  
  
"Impossible is impossible, and you already know that in your heart. You're just having a hard time shaking off the ideals you were raised with. Come on, let me show you around."  
  
I followed him across the room towards the bar. The three people were there, the bartender being one; (obviously), he looked tall, randomly strewn light brown hair, a long triangular face. He had stopped staring at me and returned to conversing with the second person. A short looking teenage female with unbelievably dark skin and even darker hair that stretched down to her chin.  
  
The third figure was a little different; she had green skin, red hair, and a tail. Needless to say I found myself staring at her in disbelief, (mostly) for a few moments. She stared back with an obvious expression of amusement on her face. Shreds of politeness and dignity punched through confussion and disbelief and I managed to avert my gaze.  
  
"Still doubting?" Manticore asked me.  
  
"No." I forced out. Speaking whilst experiencing awe is somewhat difficult.  
  
After a few seconds, we reached the bar.  
  
"Greetings." Manticore began whilst extending an arm to point at one of the assorted beverage dispensers, the bartender understood the message and started to prepare the ordered beverage.  
  
"This, my friends is Wanderer," he continued, it took me a little while to remember that Wanderer was me, "assuming he decides to he shall be the newest member of our order."  
  
The assembled heads nodded at me in an informal, half arsed greeting. I nodded back.  
  
"Wanderer, this is Dragon," (the bartender), "Hydra", (the green person), and Hawk, (no points for guessing who that is.)  
  
"Nice to meet you." Said Hawk, extending her hand and baring her teeth in a smile that revealed two pointed teeth that suggested that I was looking at a vampire, or the program equivalent.  
  
"Likewise." I said as calmly as I could whilst shaking the pre-offered hand, and half expecting to have her teeth bury themselves in my neck.  
  
Once the introductions were over, I cast another glance around the room. There were assorted seats and tables littered about the place, as well as numerous doors that appeared to be colour coded.  
  
"The brown door always leads to the outside Wanderer, remember that." Manticore's voice retained its trademark, emotionless 'cool'.  
  
"Yes master." I replied in the hope that a feeble attempt at humour would break the proverbial ice. It did, barely.  
  
There was some small laughter from the assembled programs; Dragon even gave me a look which appeared to be sympathetic.  
  
"Come on," said Hydra, tugging gently at my arm, "let's give you the grand tour."  
  
This gentle tug suddenly became a forceful yank that almost sent me to the floor. Behind me I noticed more laughter.  
  
"As you've probably guessed by the vast number of door," said Manticore over my shoulder, "there are dozens of rooms within the 'Destiny', some of them you will recognise from assorted locations you visited in the Matrix, others; well…" He trailed off and increased his pace so as to reach the door we were heading towards before me.  
  
As he opened it, I found that I was forced to look away. An unbelievably bright light seemed to engulf the room, as well as those within it.  
  
"This is our version of a human invention." Said Hawk, "it's known to them as a construct, we don't usually find ourselves calling it anything. Suffice to say, from here we can create whatever we wish, it's here where we can also edit ourselves."  
  
My eyes became as used to the light as they were going to get and I suddenly felt unspeakably disoriented as I realised what I was standing in.  
  
All around me there was nothing except a blinding white light; there were no walls, no apparent floor or ceiling, nothing. I found it a little difficult to look down for a few minutes due to an irrational fear that I would fall. Looking around I saw yet more amusement.  
  
In the construct, they showed me various other rooms, as well as a variety of potential designs for my 'residual self image' as they called it. It was creepy how they talked to me as if they were recommending which suit to buy. What I found much more creepy was how tempting it all sounded. A pestiferous corner of my mind kept telling me that all of this would cost me my soul.  
  
"We're not evil," said Hydra suddenly, reading the expressions on my face with disturbing precision, or perhaps my mind. It was apparently possible after all, "we don't interfere with the majority of the Matrix or the lives of others unless we wish to help them ascend. What we do here is try to live as full and rewarding a life as possible by using the tools that we have acquired."  
  
"I won't lie to you Wanderer," Manticore interrupted, "a lot of what we have, we stole. And the law abiding minions of the machines who created the Matrix will destroy us if they find us, but for four hundred years we have been able to hide from them. The risk is negligible, usually."  
  
"Usually?" I asked.  
  
"We're at our most vulnerable when we leave the Destiny, and we have to do that to find other initiates and acquire items that we desire or need."  
  
I took a few moments to absorb this information, the realisation that I was being asked to make a life changing decision that I couldn't come back from was beginning to enter my head. Despite the fact that I hadn't known them for an overly long time, and that the situation still seemed insane to me, they seemed trustworthy, and I had no desire to return to my old, monotonous lifestyle.   
  
"I'm in." I said suddenly, thereby earning satisfied smiles from those around me.  
  
To be continued.  
  
Now for replies:  
  
Angel-of-lightness/Naz/Miscellaneous third option/Miscellaneous fourth option: The subsequent conversations (in a manner of speaking) regarding credit between you and I makes this a poor choice of subject for a reply. Saying that it's a poor choice of subject is a slightly better subject however. But that's all I'm going to say about it. Thanks for reading, reviewing and enjoying. If you're interested, here are some more quotes which you may like to use in conversational hoo-hah.  
  
May sharp, pointy things fall on the heads of all who annoy me.  
  
He/She got killed to death.  
  
I laugh at what I am currently laughing at.  
  
(Not my best I admit, I'm running out of ideas.)  
  
Agent Josie: My parents too seem obsessed with re-decorating the kitchen. It's kind of disturbing. If you're turning invisible then you may want to consider preparing a sign that says 'I am here, please don't walk into me'. Or something similar. I had a large bag of Maltesers once, and then I scanned it and used it for my Graphics work. I'll never forgive myself. Stupid Microsoft spell checking system. It's about as helpful as a construction manual for an air guitar. How I hate it. Well anyway, thankings for your review and glad you enjoyed it. 


	5. Skin Shopping

'"I suppose not" Chin folded her arms and looked speculatively into the sphere.' – From 'The short victorious war.'  
  
Thankings to all reviewers and so on. Replies are, once again, at the end of the chapter.  
  
Chapter 5: Skin Shopping  
  
The whole thing was creepy.  
  
After the tour, Manticore snapped his fingers, thereby, somehow, creating a chair and a ludicrously wide television screen. Dragon's arm movement jerked upwards slightly, thereby indicating that the seat was for me.  
  
I sat down and watched as Hydra, Dragon and Hawk exited the room with purposeful strides. After Hawk closed the door behind her, my gaze switched once more to Manticore, who was casually throwing a remote control from one hand to the other.  
  
"Now," he said, "we can do one of three things, "we can give you a completely different body, we can give you no body and let you be a ghost, or we can just edit he body you have, which seems to be the most popular option.  
  
I sat in silence for a few seconds, considering the options. I had no strong desire to be a ghost. I'd found myself considering such a life several times during long bus journeys and concluded that it would eventually drive me to insanity. I also wasn't overly keen on the idea of a whole new body. My own corpse wasn't that bad, granted I was far from perfect but in the short years of my life I'd grown rather attached to my body, excuse the pun, is that a pun? I don't know.   
  
Anyway, I ended up choosing the third option. This in turn brought up a 1:1 scaled image of myself on the TV screen. It was a lot like looking into a mirror. The image was dressed in the exact same clothing and was mimicking my actions.  
  
"Now am I right in assuming that you'll want a few of the typical minor adjustments?"  
  
"The what?" I asked, giving Manticore a querying facial expression.   
  
"You know, do you want to be taller? Be more muscular? Bigger penis? The usual things?"  
  
For a few moments I was reminded of a show I'd once seen about botched plastic surgery. The word vanity kept springing backwards and forwards within my head. The result of this was me spending an awkwardly long amount of time trying to justify such changes to myself.  
  
In the end I think my arguments for were that my life was going to change so why not my body? It wont hurt anyone, and that I'd better make a decision quickly because Manticore's staring at me'.  
  
"Alright." I said finally. Manticore pressed a few buttons on the remote and the image on the screen seemed to change. The new image was indeed taller and more handsome. In other words how I usually saw myself whilst drunk.  
  
"Not bad." I said quietly to myself, and instantly regretting it. I was beginning to feel traces of shame claw their way into my system. Strange though it may seem, I felt like I was betraying myself.  
  
"Don't be ashamed. You're not betraying yourself, and there's no one left in your life that a change like this can hurt. You're going to ascend Wanderer, it goes far beyond improved physical appearance, but if you can improve it at the same time then why not seize that opportunity?"  
  
I stared at Manticore for a few seconds. The 'ascended' seemed to constantly know what I was thinking. It was beginning to move from creepy to annoying.  
  
"Are you telepathic?" I asked with a surprisingly calm voice, (it's not really the thing you ask people too often is it?) "Or are you just good at reading facial expressions?"  
  
His mouth formed a slight grin.  
  
"A benefit of ascension." He said. I decided that this probably meant telepathy, and that this was as good an answer as I was going to get.  
  
I cast my eyes once more to the screen. The drunken self image was still hovering within the TV screen. There was an expression on its face that almost seemed to be encouraging me towards further alterations.  
  
"Now," Manticore's tone was more serious, "let's move on from the basic shall we?" He punched another few buttons on the remote and the image retreated into the background. It was soon overlapped by several images, all of which seemed to resemble assorted mythical beasts. I could make out a vampire, a werewolf, an angel and whatever it was that Hydra had chosen to dress herself as. The others were all, most likely, figments of one of the other's imagination.  
  
"We have thousands of designs," said Manticore, "pick one if you wish, or if you prefer you can create something of your own."  
  
He threw me the remote and I started flicking randomly through the pages. There were thousands upon thousands of weird and wonderful beasts. For a while I considered becoming a huge Spider. I then decided that the novelty would soon wear off and resumed my search.  
  
In the end started designing a design of my own. All the while Manticore was sitting upon the 'floor' occasionally nodding to himself, which was also creepy.  
  
My final choice was as strange as the situation I was in was. I still had my body, or more accurately my body version 2.0, but I had added two swords that could spring out from y arms, (whether or not I'd need these I had no idea, I just wanted something to frighten those who laughed at my choice, and they looked pretty cool.)  
  
I also changed my eyes so that they were all black, I did make sure that I would still be able to see however.  
  
There were a few other things, I could now see as well in the dark as I could in the light, I made myself more resilient to injury, and I also included telepathy, I intended to use it to get even with everyone who had invaded my cranium, and make sure that the odds were even for future invasions.  
  
I was also beginning to care slightly less about changing myself. Manticore had made a convincing argument. There was no one left who I would disappoint, the proposition sounded tempting, and like I said, I didn't want to return to my old life.  
  
"I think that will do." I said after staring at the image for a few minutes.  
  
"Looks good." Said Manticore who was still nodding to himself, "Come with me."  
  
Manticore set off in the direction of the door, I started walking towards the exit a few seconds after so as to receive my new features, and be separated from, as Manticore once called it, 'my cage of flesh'.  
  
To be continued.  
  
Right, now for some replies.  
  
Angel-of-lightness: I'm drawing a blank with humorous phrase like phrases. Oh well. I find myself drawing random things in paint from time to time. I usually get bored and delete them however. With regards to tomorrow, (assuming you read this today,) happy birthday. Good fortunes with whatever well wishing is appropriate for.  
  
Agent Josie: I don't really think of myself as Wanderer, I wouldn't willingly get into the car of a person I'd just met, and I'd probably have fainted by this part of the story. Oh well. I do wear a lot of black though. My wallet is also black, and falling to pieces, thereby causing coins to escape and fall o the floor. Damn pennies. 


	6. That shouldn't have happened

Thankings once more to all reviewers, replies are at the bottom.   
  
Anyway, at this point in the story, things may get a little confusing.  
  
Chapter 6: That shouldn't have happened  
  
I opened my eyes and stared in fear and confussion at the sight, if that's what it was, before me.  
  
All I could see was red, then my vision became slightly clearer and I made out wires, all of which seemed to surround me, I was a little disturbed to find that they were in fact attached to me.  
  
I sat up, breaking the sticky coating which seemed to be trying with all its strength to keep me in place. As I did this, I used what little strength I could muster to tear a plug from my throat.  
  
It was cold.  
  
Once my survival instincts had died down slightly, I looked around and shuddered in sudden horror as I realised what had happened.  
  
They'd un-plugged me.  
  
All around me there were pods, all of which contained an unrecognisable corpse with similar looking wires holding them in place and doing who knows what to them. Looking below me I noticed that I was so far from the ground that I'd probably die of old age before I'd hit it, if I fell.  
  
My thoughts were halted suddenly, and my fear amplified, by a faint whirring sound that was becoming louder by the second.  
  
I looked upwards to see what I can only describe as a huge mechanical spider hovering towards me. Now I'm not really an arachnophobe, but I'm not the world's biggest spider fan either, and on top of everything that was happening, the added fear this sight produced was, let's just say, unwelcome.  
  
The beast stopped dead and seemed to stare at me for a few seconds. It seemed to shift slightly from side to side as if were a predator arranging itself in the best striking position it could find.  
  
And then it struck.  
  
A huge metallic arm shot forward and grabbed me by the neck; I instinctively grabbed the arm and tried to prise it off of me, to no avail of course. The arm stayed in position for what seemed like hours, looking back however, it was probably more like seconds.  
  
Anyway, I heard a noise that sounded like an electric drill, before I knew it the wire in my head was gone, followed soon after by the other wires.  
  
My whole body went numb with this, and I found that I could do nothing but be swept away into the dark tunnel that appeared behind me, in which presumably, giant buzz saws or a mincer was waiting to dispose of me.  
  
To be honest, I didn't really care.  
  
*******************************************************************  
  
I sat alone in the bar with a half empty glass in front of me. Since my transformation, I had been plagued by a feeling of depression and betrayal to myself. Manticore had told me that this was natural, and would pass after a day or two. Until that happened however, I was reasonably content to revel in my miserable solitude. Hydra had other ideas however.  
  
"Mind if I join you?" She asked suddenly, having apparently appeared out of nowhere and making me jump in the process.  
  
"Go ahead." I said as politely as I could.  
  
She stretched her tail as far towards the ceiling as far as it would go before sitting down. She the let it hang over the seat.  
  
"I thought you might like someone to talk to during your guilt trip."  
  
"Thanks," I uttered whilst producing a grin, "if you don't mind, I have about 400 questions to ask."  
  
"I thought you might," she adjusted her tail slightly and shifted in the chair, "alright then, ask, question and inquire."  
  
I started with the obvious, 'how did the organisation start', 'what happened next' etc. The answers to these questions were pretty much what I'd expected. After I'd got the obvious stuff out of the way, I moved on to the less-important questions that my own curiosity had seen fit to supply me with.  
  
"Your organisation has…"  
  
"Don't call it an organisation." She said suddenly, "it makes us sound like a club."  
  
"Alright," I said with traces of irritation in my voice, this was the third thing like this to happen since the conversation had started, "your, uh, order, has been around for over 400 years right?"  
  
"Right."  
  
"Then how come there's so few of you?"  
  
"How come there's so few of 'us'?" She corrected, "you're one of us now Wanderer, but getting back to your question, we've tried this before, and the people either went power mad or tried to expose us. Neither of which we can allow. So now, we just search for the few who meet our requirements."  
  
"I'm flattered." I said before emptying my glass.  
  
This brought out traces of a grin from Hydra.   
  
"Let me ask you a question," she said, leaning forward slightly, "why did you ignore your common sense?"  
  
"Why did I do what now?"  
  
"As a child, you were undoubtedly taught not to talk to strangers, or willingly climb in their Porsches. And yet you seemed to follow Manticore without question."  
  
"Ah," I'd asked myself this a few times, "to be honest, I'm not sure. I'm guessing it's because I was either bored or maybe suicidal." I remembered the knife that was still concealed in my pocket and quickly decided that it wasn't suicidal urges that had encouraged me into Manticore's car.  
  
"And now that you've ascended, are you still suicidal?"  
  
"No." I said quickly, I didn't feel up to correcting myself in my speech as well as my thoughts, "no I'm not."  
  
A small amount of silence lingered in the air for a few seconds.  
  
"And now comes the awkward part of the conversation where we've run out of things to say." I said. This too brought out a grin from her.  
  
"Well, be that as it may, I will advise that you get some sleep, the guilt will pass more quickly if you're unconscious."  
  
"Sounds like a good idea." I said, whilst lifting myself out of the seat.  
  
"Goodnight." She said.  
  
"Goodnight."  
  
A bit of a short one I know. Fear not, the next one should be longer.   
  
Right, now for some replies.  
  
Angel of Lightness – The fish is unlikely to burn its master. For now at least, anyway. Funny stuff is in your situational hoo-hah. Thanks for reviewing.  
  
When I was young, I use to kill pigeons with evil thoughts. When people asked me why I did this, I stared at them as if they'd just queried the colour of the sky, partly because I didn't know what a pigeon was. I'd always just thought of them as flying grey bird like creatures.  
  
Tai Wilson – Nothing is better then the Matrix trilogy, NOTHING! Anyway, thanks for reviewing. 


	7. Strange Places

Thankings once more to reviewers. Replies are at the end of the chapter. A shit load of snow has come to Martham. (I had to tell someone.)  
  
Chapter 7: Strange places  
  
The tube that I had been flying down for the last minute o two at some incalculable speed deposited me into mid air above a pit of foul smelling water with century's old, and a century's worth of shit festering on the surface.  
  
The smell or risk of disease didn't really bother me. What did bother me was the sharp pain I felt as I charged involuntarily into the small swamp. Pain engulfed my whole body as I hit the 'water', and what little strength I had in my limbs was soon gone.  
  
'This is it,' I thought as I went under, 'I'm going to drown.'  
  
I also uttered some choice words, (in my mind of course, I was using what strength I had to keep my mouth closed so as not to ingest the God-forsaken water I was bathing in. Pretty pointless I guess but at the same time, why not?)  
  
Anyway, I uttered a few choice words for the 'ascended ones'. I could see it all now. The bastards take unsuspecting victims, tempt them with offers of magical powers, fur or some such shit, and then they laugh as they get un-plugged, flail about in fear for a while and drown.  
  
I couldn't help but feel stupid; I'd followed Manticore even though my instincts had warned me against it. It seemed useless to make excuses at the time, so with my remaining strength I wondered what a squid with glowing red eyes was doing staring at me before I passed out.  
  
*******************************************************************  
  
The next day, I decided to go for a walk.  
  
Much of the Destiny remained unseen by me, and to the best of my knowledge, I had nothing better to do. I also lived in hope that it would help banish my feelings of guilt.  
  
The first door I tried deposited me in a conventional men's room. A rather disappointing start, I memorised the design of the door whilst I was there however, as I felt it was sure to be a room I would visit quite often in the future.  
  
And then it hit me, I hadn't had, or needed a piss for almost two days. The shock at discovering this wasn't as powerful as I would have expected it to be. Not that I thought about it that often.  
  
After further thought, I discovered that I hadn't eaten or defecated in the last two days. I didn't feel at all hungry, and my bowls, or the digital equivalent, were blissfully quiet.  
  
I attributed this to my new program like existence and separation from my body.  
  
I shuddered at the thought of my body. Dragon had told me that it would probably have been declared dead due to a system malfunction, melted down into a liquid form, and fed to one or more of the motionless human corpses within the Matrix. It was the thought that I was being eaten more then anything that disturbed me.  
  
Anyway, I closed the door and wondered briefly why they needed a toilet before moving on to door number two. The contents of the room beyond were a little different then what I had just seen.  
  
The room was a lot like the construct, there seemed to be an awe inspiringly bright light that covered the whole room and spilled into the bar. The room was far from empty however, there were words almost everywhere. All of which were of varying sizes, fonts and colours. Some remained motionless, some flew about in random patterns, skilfully dodging and weaving around the others.  
  
One of the words came to an abrupt halt in front of me, I read it, it said 'words'. I was tempted to tell it that I had noticed, but I decided against the idea.  
  
"I see you've found the library." I turned to see the face of Hawk staring at me.  
  
"A library is it?" I asked, half expecting to receive more pedantic psychobabble.  
  
"Not really," she replied instead, "but we had a choice between calling it a library or a neural interface document archive and, well…"  
  
She shrugged and I nodded in understanding. I felt an involuntary grin break out on my face.  
  
"What?" She asked after noticing the grin.  
  
"Nothing really, I just expected you to tell me that I was still thinking with the limited views of the conventional matrix dwelling human."  
  
A grin broke out on her face.  
  
"Manticore been giving you an endless ascension speech has he?"  
  
"Manticore, Hydra and Dragon. You can't have a conversation with them without having your speech corrected in every other sentence."  
  
"Tell me about it," she walked into the 'library', followed by me a few seconds after, "it was like that with me for the first fifty years. I'm afraid it will be the same with you, probably."  
  
"Oh joy." I said with a mixture of irritation and humour.  
  
*******************************************************************  
  
I heard voices above me. It was all I could sense. I couldn't see, the lights were too bright for that, and I had a sharp pain in my eyes for some reason. I couldn't move, my strength hadn't returned, I could barely breathe, and my attempt to speak resulted in an incoherent wince.  
  
Their conversation went something like this:  
  
"It doesn't make any sense."  
  
"They told us he wasn't on the scheduled un-plugging waiting list."  
  
"Why would he be? He's too old, he'll probably snap by the end of the week."  
  
"That's not always the case, remember Neo?"  
  
"No", the voice was sarcastic, "I've completely forgotten."  
  
"Not now Magellan."  
  
"Sorry."  
  
"Do they know who he is?"  
  
"Eric Drexler, your bog standard human. He has, or had, a job, a house and a typical life."  
  
"Nothing special about him then?"  
  
"Not that we or the machines can see."  
  
"Well, whoever he is, we have to patch him up."  
  
I didn't feel or hear anything after that, I think I fell asleep. I had a very pleasant dream in which I had my hands around Manticore's throat. I remember promising myself that I'd exact vengeance assuming I didn't go insane or become confined to a wheelchair.  
  
They started speaking again, or they continued speaking whilst I was unconscious. A fourth person had joined them.  
  
"How is he?"  
  
"He'll be fine sir, once we sort out the basics."  
  
"I want to know the second he's able to talk. With any luck, he'll be able to answer some questions."  
  
I could hardly wait. I think I tried to say that but I just ended up wincing again.  
  
"What was that?"  
  
"Sir, it would be helpful if you left us to it. He's not going to say much more then that for a while."  
  
"Very well doctor, but contact me the second he's conscious."  
  
"Yes sir." There was irritation in the voice.  
  
"What an arsehole." I heard muttered from who was probably Magellan, probably after he who was 'sir' had left.  
  
"The last thing this guy will need is to be sprung upon with a thousand questions."  
  
"Well, you know how it is; the council's terrified of anything that is even slightly unexpected at the moment. They're fearful of another war to the point of insanity."  
  
"Well you can't really blame them. I men just look what almost happened with the last one."  
  
"I guess."  
  
I think I passed out again.  
  
To be continued  
  
Right, now for replies.  
  
Tai Wilson: A simple misreading on my part squire. Anyway, I'm guessing you've figured out what the situation is so I won't go into that. Thanks for reviewing.  
  
Angel-of-lightness: Oh. Well in that case my speaking of the dreams will rob them of their premonitionness. Shit. Anyway, thanks for reading/enjoying/reviewing.   
  
Agent Josey: You should have said something to that effect in the afore mentioned review; I would have included you in the last chapter's replies. Snowmen can be used to kill Seagulls. Whether or not the opposite is true I do not know. Thanks for reviewing. 


	8. New Lives

Right, thankings once more to all reviewing persons.  
  
Chapter 8: New lives  
  
I don't know how long I was unconscious, no one ever told me. At the time though I didn't really care.  
  
I woke up in a dark, seemingly empty room. I sat up suddenly after I'd sufficiently recovered my wits. I'd been lying down so long that I wanted nothing more then to move. I was actually very surprised to find out that I could. Other then being slightly disorientated, I felt, for the most part, whole.  
  
I stood up and looked around the room. It was small; there were six beds along two facing walls, and a door on the far side of the room.  
  
I found myself making a few educated guesses about where I was and what had happened. Somehow, I had been un-plugged, dumped in a cess pool, somehow dragged to this place which was presumably the almost mythological Zion, and received medical attention.  
  
Fear and confussion hovered in my mind, mainly because this was not a certainty, and I had no idea what to expect next. At the back of all this however, there were traces of joy. Whatever happened next, I had escaped from the Matrix and the dull, monotonous lifestyle that I despised. If I was going to go insane because of this in the not to distant future, I decided to make the most of what time I had left.  
  
With this thought in my mind, I walked towards the door, placed my hand on the handle, and realised that I was stark bullock naked.  
  
Quickly pulling my hand back, and feeling traces of embarrassment, I searched the room for any clothes that had been left, a quilt or anything to cover myself with before I ventured out into the unknown.  
  
Thankfully, someone had left clothes for me on one of the beds. I quickly donned the garments which seemed to be second hand, and plagued by moths at one time or another during their existence.  
  
After pulling a small woollen hat over as much of my head as I could, I walked back towards the door, pulled it open, and found I had to guard my eyes against the lighting beyond.  
  
Through the small gap in my left hand that doubled up as my current field of vision. I could see that there was at lest another person in the room with me. They seemed to be moving towards me.  
  
"Oh," they said, "we weren't expecting you to be up so soon."  
  
I tried to think of something to say in response, but nothing really seemed appropriate.   
  
"How are you feeling?" Asked another.  
  
"Confused," I said, feeling slightly surprised that I didn't have a sore throat, "but otherwise I'm fine. I'm guessing I have you two to thank for that."  
  
"Those two and me." Said another voice from my right. By this time my eyes had sufficiently adjusted to the light to a point where I could lower my hand and see the three faces around me.  
  
The one on my left was female. She was about my height, long black hair, blue eyes, and a look on her face which, rather surprisingly, looked as if I'd just accused her of stealing.  
  
The second face was male, a black man, slightly shorter then me, half a millimetre thick black hair covering his head. He extended a hand which I shook after noticing a strange wire that was implanted in my arm. On closer inspection, I noticed that my whole body seemed to be covered in small, metallic holes. This was a slightly disorientating experience.  
  
"You can remove that." The third face said, a man who appeared to be from somewhere in Asia. The look on his face looked slightly amused. For a second, I considered ramming my fist into his teeth. I'd had enough of people being amused at my expense. In the end however, I decided against the idea, and instead removed the wire from my arm.  
  
"Listen," said the second face, "I know you probably have hundreds of questions, are confused, disorientated and weary, but we've been ordered to take you to a bastard called Commander Locke, he wants to talk to you about your unexplained un-plugging."  
  
I absorbed this and remembered the conversation, presumably between these three and this Locke guy that I had overheard in my semi-unconscious state.  
  
"Alright." I said blankly, a little frustrated that I had to live in ignorance for a few more hours.   
  
After a few more questions regarding my health and wellbeing, I followed the three to where Commander Locke was waiting.  
  
*******************************************************************  
  
"Remind me again where we're going." I said from the passenger's seat.  
  
Manticore foolishly turned his head to stare at me for a few seconds before snapping his eyes back to the road.  
  
"We're always searching for new members Wanderer, we're going to the closest place with mass numbers of humans, if we're lucky, which we probably won't be, we'll find someone like yourself who we can initiate."  
  
"We're going into town you mean?"  
  
"Yes."  
  
And that we did. Manticore parked the car on the highest level of a multi-storey car park, despite the fact that there were plenty of other spaces on lower levels, and we ended up traipsing through a shopping centre which was annoyingly crowded.  
  
That was the first day I'd worn sunglasses. Given the choice I probably wouldn't have, but a man walking around with jet black eyes might have raised a few eyebrows.  
  
Anyway, that's beside the point. We ended up getting coffee at a nearby café and spent our time staring at the passers-by.  
  
"What do you feel when you look at those people?" Manticore asked me suddenly.  
  
"A little confused about how you can tell who is ascension worthy." I responded. This brought out a grin from him.  
  
"You know what I mean." He said.  
  
"Honestly, I feel a lot like I've left school, had to go back for presentation assembly, only to find that the place has burned down."  
  
"I see." The word 'see' was emphasised to the point where it sounded ridiculous.  
  
"Well alright, in English that means I do feel a bit superior to what I was, which is them. I just don't really like admitting it."  
  
"Because it makes you sound pompous."  
  
"Precisely."  
  
"Wanderer," his tone sounded both sympathetic and wearisome, "contrary to what you may believe, you can be ascended without being an arsehole. Tell me, do you feel any pity for those people?"  
  
"No."  
  
"Why not?"  
  
"Because they're happy enough with their lives, I'm happy enough with mine."  
  
"Precisely, ascension isn't for everyone, we are superior to them, but that doesn't necessarily make us better, if you know what I mean."   
  
"I do, but getting back to my original question, how can you tell if someone is right for ascension?"  
  
"People who can successfully ascend usually live similar lives to the one you did. They wander about the world looking for traces of their former life but never quite finding anything. When we see someone like that, we follow them, investigate their life, and if they're fit for ascension, we give them the choice."  
  
"I see," something suddenly occurred to me, "so you were watching me eh?"  
  
"It's a necessity."  
  
"For how long?"  
  
"Almost two months, we first…"  
  
Manticore's voice came to an abrupt halt when we heard the sounds of gunshots and screaming.  
  
To be continued  
  
Replies:  
  
Agent Josie: The purpose of all snowmen is to end. I haven't seen any snow demons around these parts, I haven't seen any snowmen either. Maybe they've all been thrown into ponds like thine, (is thine right?). In any case, thanks for reviewing.  
  
Tai Wilson: It won't be confusing for much longer with any luck. Anyway, i'm glad to see you're enjoying it. A few days you say? That's hard to believe. Oh well, thanks for reviewing. 


	9. First blood to us

Thankings to any and all reviewers. Annoyingly, I don't know who's reviewed and what they've said because the stupid review system is fucked. At least it was the last time I checked. Anyway…  
  
Chapter 9: First blood to us  
  
Manticore and I stood almost instinctively. Around us, anarchy had established a speedy and thorough grip on the surrounding area. People were screaming, looking around them for a place to hide, or running in random directions. One person appeared to have fainted.  
  
"Demons." Said Manticore tonelessly. The two of us remained motionless despite the panic and the gunshots that grew ever louder and more frequent.  
  
For those that don't know, Demons are a recently formed and disturbingly large group of anarchists, or more accurately, terrorists, who go one place to another, burning, maiming, killing, raping and despoiling as they go. Their activities have been reported worldwide, but their activities are also blissfully rare.  
  
The so called reasoning for their actions is that because the Matrix isn't real, their activities have no real consequences. As anyone with the remotest shred of common sense will tell you, this is bullshit. The Demons are just a bunch of thugs who have found an excuse to terrorise innocent people.   
  
I knew that a fight was coming between the demons and Manticore and I. I was nervous, but not nearly to the extent that I should have been. My ascension had also brought with it a complete 'download' into my digital brain of all human martial arts, training with virtually every handheld weapon known to exist, and even a crash course in Matrix based physics. In other words, I could now, to an extent, alter the world around me to suit my needs. Very handy in a fight.   
  
Anyway, within seconds, the demons came into view. There were four of them, all male; one had a ludicrously long Mohican, a black leather jacket which seemed to have been crapped on by many a pigeon, and a gun in his left hand. I couldn't make out the make at this distance.  
  
The second one was a short, salivating creature who was obviously high. He seemed to be transfixed by Manticore's sunglasses, assuming he could stop himself falling over, logic dictated that he would be the easiest.  
  
The third one bared his teeth at me, all three of them. He was a tall, bald man with more piercings in his face then there are holes in stilton. He had a blood stained crowbar in his hands, the blood looked wet, which suggested recent use; I made a silent promise to myself that he would pay for that.  
  
The fourth one appeared to be the leader of the gang of bastards. He stood several paces forward from the others and wielded a shiny looking shotgun in his hands. He was also the first to speak.  
  
"Look here guys, two pretty boys with more money then brains."  
  
The high demon exploded in a fit of laughter, the others laughed for a few seconds before turning to glare at him.  
  
The first thing I did was to remove my sunglasses. I was hoping that my new eyes would disturb them slightly.  
  
And disturb it did. The three who were in a fit state to think realised instantly what I was, and what the human looking Manticore probably was.  
  
The first one fired a shot at Manticore, which was dodged with inhuman speed and relative ease. This caused one of the demons, although I couldn't see who, to gasp. I decided to further the use of intimidation by wielding my arm mounted swords.  
  
The toothless person flinched at this. He flung his bloody crowbar at me. I managed, for the first time to move at a similar speed to Manticore and dodge the weapon. I'm not entirely sure how I did it, it felt more like an instinctive action then anything else.  
  
You'd think that after a display like the one me and Manticore were showing; they'd wisely turn their tales and flee, dragging their doped up friend with them. Nope, they charged at us. And then the fun began, in a manner of speaking.  
  
The one with the elaborate Mohican charged at Manticore, who dodged two feeble swings at the face and buried his hand deep into the demon's stomach, before sending him flying back down the way he'd came with a kick to the ribs.  
  
The toothless crowbar flinger came at me. Like his beaten colleague, he aimed for my head, unlike his friend however, he tried to kick me in the head. Thereby allowing me to grab his leg with one hand, thereby suspending him in the air, and pull him towards me. This allowed me to drive my fist into his neck, (I momentarily retracted my sword before doing this in case you were wondering). He fell to the floor and started gagging uncontrollably.  
  
The third salivating demon still seemed transfixed by Manticore's sunglasses, he made no attempt to attack, but Manticore decided to put him to sleep anyway, just to be on the safe side.  
  
A stab of triumph was closely followed by a stab of worry when I saw the fourth dragon swinging his shotgun around to face Manticore, whose back was at the time turned.  
  
"Get down!" I screamed as I charged towards the enemy. I'm not sure why I didn't just knock him out, maybe it was rage, a wish for vengeance, whatever it was, I swung the sword on my right arm, and his head fell from his shoulders.  
  
I went numb. As you may have guessed, it was the first time I had ever taken a life. My mind went blank, unwilling to recognise anything or do anything to remind me of what I had just done.  
  
After what was probably a minute of staring inanely at the corpse, Manticore walked up to me and placed a hand on my shoulder.  
  
"You did the right thing," his voice was calm; it felt uncomfortably loud over the silence, (the panicking masses had long since fled this area, "this thing was a demon, they are all evil, soulless bastards. They deserve to die."  
  
"And do we get to decide who deserves to die." My own voice was chocked beyond belief; the words sounded more like grunts. Manticore seemed to understand them however.  
  
"It seems to me that you just did. Remember two things Wanderer and repeat them religiously to yourself until they sink in. This man deserved to die, and his death may save more lives then you can imagine."  
  
I nodded, maybe I was trying to justify murder at the time, maybe I am now, but I believe I killed him for the right reasons, and that more good will come from his death then his life.  
  
I spent the next month moping around the destiny, receiving encouraging words, and feeling my guilt and my reasoning fight to the death. In the end, my reasoning won.   
  
To be continued. 


	10. Lifestyle Changes

Thankings to all reviewers. At last, I can see you now. Replies are at the end of the chapter. There may be some minor format problems hither.  
  
Chapter 10: Lifestyle changes  
  
Commander Locke, or a smattering of his minions, had somehow converted a metallic, disturbingly small cuboid into a metallic, disturbingly small office. It was a dark, dingy place, it felt, and faintly smelt like being stuck in the back of a toilet.  
  
"Eric Drexler sir." Said an over-enthusiastic teenager who had shown me from the last two floors to Locke's office.  
  
"Thank you, dismissed."  
  
I stepped forward a few paces and watched as the door slammed shut behind me with a loud gong.  
  
"Sit down please." Said Locke, without even looking up from a series of paper sheets that were strewn randomly on his desk. I remember thinking something about simple courtesy but I can't remember what. I guess it doesn't matter.  
  
I took the seat that he had gestured at with one hand.   
  
"How is it that you were un-plugged?" He was looking at me now. The look on his face suggested that he was going to rip me to shreds in a matter of moments.  
  
"What?" I said light-heartedly, "no small talk?"  
  
It probably wasn't the smartest choice of actions, but there was something about his seemingly unbreakable, calm military like professionalism that begged to be challenged.  
  
He exhaled and turned his head to the side slightly. The look on his face reminded me suddenly of an old high school teacher. It was the same look he would use to show contempt for annoying students.  
  
"We don't have time to piss about," he was almost hissing at me, thereby putting me on the edge of a hysterical laugh, "if your answers reveal anything that could be a threat to Zion then I have permission to have you shot right here."  
  
"That's not very nice." I replied with a faked hurt look on my face.  
  
If this had been any other situation, I would have wisely shut up. Something was different now however, I felt like my world had been ripped from me and nothing I did really mattered. I also felt that I'd grow out of this at some point, assuming I didn't get killed within the next few minutes.  
  
Locke looked like he was resisting the urge to go for my throat with his teeth.   
  
"I'm going to ask you once more, how did you manage to get un-plugged?"  
  
Deciding that it was in my best interests, I told him everything.  
  
*******************************************************************  
  
After that pesky month of guilt had passed, I actually began to feel slightly good about what I'd done. That undoubtedly makes me a sick piece of shit but what can you do? Anyway, it's not like I started going out and decapitating people on sight. I realised that Manticore was right, that demon did deserve to die, and if we didn't decide who deserved to die, no one would.  
  
Manticore had been acting strangely since we returned. He'd taken to sitting in his room for hours on en, preparing to make a great speech to those assembled in the bar, and then suddenly wandering off. This carried on for almost a week before Hydra was able to prise something out of him.  
  
"He's thinking about going to war with the Demons." She said suddenly one night when all but Manticore were seated about the card table. It was an awkward thing; it hovered and would randomly alter its height. Whoever had designed this feature should have been beaten about the head with a barracuda.  
  
Sorry, I'm drifting from the subject. Hydra had chosen to say this at what appeared to be a completely spontaneous time. I think that we were discussing the pros and cons of there being peace with the machines and humans when she said it.  
  
Everyone glared at her for a while. Before Dragon finally said,  
  
"What?"  
  
"Manticore's thinking of going to war with the Demons."  
  
It was hard to think of an intelligible and witty response to this statement. It also took a while for the words to sink in.  
  
"Why?" Said Hawk after a few moments, "Well actually, I guess its obvious why but, why now?"  
  
"He said that he didn't feel right sitting around here doing nothing to stop them when we have the power to do just that."  
  
"Do we though?" I added, "There's five of us and hundreds of Demons, and not all of them are your average human."  
  
"We wouldn't take them all on at once; we'd just strike when they attacked somewhere."  
  
"Manticore and I stumbled across a Demon attack, how would we find out where they were attacking?"  
  
"We'd need to obtain some tracking software, and we'd need some kind of output device…"  
  
"Maybe we'd get our own comic book series." Dragon added suddenly. Me and Hawk laughed at this, Hydra seemed lost in thought.  
  
Another silence passed through the room as we considered this. Truth to tell, I wasn't overly fond of the idea of killing anyone else, Demon or no. After thinking about it however, I decided that I could settle for knocking them out and waiting for the police to arrive like with the surviving three.  
  
"This isn't a decision I can make for you." Manticore's raised voice from the far side of the room startled he shit out of me. I banished the feeling as best as I could before turning to face him.  
  
"I do believe that it is the right thing to do however," he continued, "but this may very well get us all killed. So we vote. Who says fight? Who doesn't?"  
  
Another silence passed through the room. The idea of risking our lives wasn't an overly appealing one, despite the worthy cause. To be honest, I found the situation about too comic bookesqe to take seriously. After I saw the situation for what it really was however, I agreed that it was the right thing to do.  
  
"I say Fight." I said sounding more nervous then I had hoped to.  
  
"So do I." Said Hawk moments after.  
  
"And me." This one came from Hydra.  
  
"This probably won't sink in properly until tomorrow at least," Dragon seemed determined to say fight in as elaborate a way as possible, "and when it does I'll probably kick myself; but yeah, I think we should fight."  
  
"Glad you agree." A grin found its way onto Manticore's face.  
  
I think we got back to our card game after that. It was too late in the day to do anything except make the aforementioned decision.  
  
To be continued.  
  
Right, now for replies.  
  
Alex: It's always difficult to respond to conventional praise. All I can usually think of is something like 'Thanks for reviewing' which makes it seem like I'm doing a hatchet job reply wise.   
  
Um, thanks for reviewing. (Sorry, it's all I can think of apart from the earlier stuff.)  
  
Angel-Of-Lightness: If you have a heart problem you probably shouldn't stab yourself.  
  
When I die, I'll be dead.  
  
I tried to relieve constipation by firing a gun up my arse. Looking back, it wasn't the smartest thing to do.  
  
You can donate your blood but you can't donate your limbs.  
  
Thanks for reviewing. Get well soon, if you don't I'll spend 14 days throwing sunflower seeds at you.  
  
Tai Wilson: Suck it did, I knew the new reviews were there but I couldn't see the bloody things. Oh well, glad you're enjoying it.  
  
Agent Josie: Why is it now that I see the most snowmen? When all that's left is trace elements of ice. I hate ice. Anyway, thanks for reviewing. Readed and Revieweded, and stapled. 


	11. 2nd Unexpected Occurence

Thankings once again to all reviewing persons. Replies are, rather unsurprisingly, at the end of the chapter.  
  
Chapter 11: 2nd Unexpected Occurrence  
  
After I'd spilled my guts to Locke, I was shown to a small room in a dark, nondescript place in Zion which I'd probably never find again if I got lost. Anyway, I was shown to the room, and told to wait there until someone came for my 'assessment'.  
  
And so I waited, in the small cupboard that passed for a living space. There was a bed against one wall that covered the width of the room, the toilet was barely bigger then my hand, and there was a table in the centre of the room which I soon caught my leg on, which was as you can imagine, painful. I then banged my fist on it in frustration, which was as you can imagine, painful.  
  
I didn't pay much attention to the pain, due mainly to the fact that anger and misery had been welling up within me ever since I'd been dragged into Locke's office. It was only after I'd been deposited in my cabin or whatever they called it that I realised why.  
  
I'd wanted to leave the Matrix because I wanted as much control over my life as was humanly possible, and since the second I arrived I'd had about as much control over my life as a sleeping person does over a moving car. It wasn't a happy experience. The idea of everyone pulling my strings except me made me want to find Locke and ram my fist so far into his chest that it came out the other side. I was certain I caught him sniggering several times during my story.  
  
After I smashed my fists over a few more solid objects, I did the only thing I could do; I fell asleep.  
  
I woke to the sound of screaming.  
  
Hurriedly pulling myself off of the bed, my head snapped around to face the door. The noises beyond seemed to be a mixture of screams, loud bangs, and something that sounded like a low pitched electrical discharge.  
  
I pulled myself to my feet and took a few steps towards the door before I stopped dead and realised that whatever it was that was causing those screams would probably kill me. Then again, I'd probably die if I stayed here and did nothing. That and there would be pesky guilt issues to deal with. In short, I charged out of the door.  
  
The sight on the other side of the door caused my heart to skip several beats.  
  
Everywhere I looked there were people shooting at, or running from the bizarre squid shaped machines, similar to the one that had apparently dragged me to Zion. Several of these mechanical beasts stopped abruptly and fell to the floor with a loud gong as they collided with the stream of electricity from a human's gun, (or whatever it was they were shooting at them with).  
  
Elsewhere, I saw people getting ripped to shreds, or being dropped into the seemingly endless hole below. One person who was lying disturbingly close to me looked like he'd been fried by friendly fire, or perhaps his own.  
  
I almost vomited, but trace elements of self control pushed it back down. Instead I prised a gun from the dead man's crispy fingers and tried to identify a trigger.  
  
I found it seconds after I found a squid flying straight at me, for a few seconds, I was paralysed through fear. Having a large machine charge towards you with the intention of killing you is also not a happy experience. After I'd sufficiently recovered my senses, I fired.  
  
The gun vibrated as the electricity flew from it. It was hard to keep it facing my target. With considerable effort however, I succeeded.  
  
The machine stopped suddenly and shuddered. It looked a lot like it was in pain. After a few seconds however, it fell to join the dead at the bottom of the aforementioned hole.  
  
Traces of what I believe were an adrenaline rush were quickly banished when I realised that there were several more mechanical beasts that could tea me to pieces. I pulled at a small lever with the word 'recharge' written near it and hurriedly flicked my head back and forth in search of a new target.  
  
To my right, it looked as if a human was fighting a squid for control of her weapon. It also looked as if she was loosing. The creatures many tentacles wrapped themselves around the woman's weapon. Several more seemed to be wrapping themselves around her arms. I fired.  
  
My aim wasn't as good this time. My blast struck the beast on one corner of its head, and cut its way through several of its appendages. These fell to the floor with a series of small metallic clangs which sounded like coins being thrown into an aluminium wishing well.   
  
The beast released the woman's weapon and arms before charging straight at me. I was hurriedly trying to recharge my weapon, already knowing that I wasn't going to be quick enough, before hearing another electrical discharge.  
  
The beast shuddered and fell, thereby showing me the woman's form standing before me with her weapon raised, and a triumphant grin on her face.  
  
I nodded which was the closest thing to a thank you that I could afford to offer right now. I quickly turned my head around to pick out another target, only to see the remaining two squids get frazzled by two people on the far side of the structure.  
  
I waited for a few seconds and revelled in the relief that flooded through me.  
  
"Jay, this is Meridian," this came from the woman on my right, she was speaking into something that looked like a cross between a mobile phone and a brick, "tell Locke we got all of them down here."  
  
"Will do." Came the static filled response.  
  
"What the fuck is going on?" I half shouted at her from across the five odd meter space between us.  
  
"What does it look like?" She said irritably.  
  
"I'm new here."  
  
"Oh yeah, you must be the guy who…" She cut herself off, realising that this wasn't a good time for a conversation.  
  
"Are there any more?" I asked quickly.  
  
"Let's go find out." She darted down some nearby stairs as she said the last word.  
  
Against my survival instincts and better judgement, I took off after her.  
  
To be continued  
  
Right, now for replying.  
  
Angel-of-lightness: If you die then I'll be forced to kill you. Seriously though, I like your new website. I will join it if I can, but first I must wait for the computer that no one cares about to get fixed, then the power of MSN shall be at my command. That's not likely to happen any time soon though. 'Sniff'.  
  
Agent Josie: Fanfiction.net's arsery knows no bounds. Especially when you find yourself with nothing better to do. Oh well, thanks for your praise like praise and I'll try to review your story before you read this. If I don't, um, I don't know. Oh well, thanks for reviewing.  
  
Tai Wilson: I find myself using assorted accents from time to time, usually during English lessons. Oh how I hate them. Anyway, thanks for reviewing. Update your story soon if ya please. 


	12. Death on one side, Death on the other

Thankings to all reviewers, as per usual, replies are at the end of the chapter.  
  
Chapter 12: Death on one side, Death on the other.  
  
I watched disinterestedly as the scenery flew past the car window. It was hardly the most interesting of sights, especially when compared to what lay within the destiny.  
  
Manticore had again insisted that I come with him. He seemed to want to drag me with him on outings twice as much as any of the others. I'm still not entirely certain why, maybe it was because I had a better chance of killing someone if a fight broke out.  
  
Hydra and Hawk were also with us, they seemed similarly disinterested with their surroundings, and no conversation topics seemed to be springing forth from anyone's head; except mine.  
  
"So let me get this straight, we're going to see a program called 'The Oracle' who can see into the future, and ask if she'd mind telling us the times and locations of future Demon attacks right?"  
  
"We're going to ask her if she can help us," corrected Manticore, "she doesn't see everything."  
  
"Alright, this brings me on to my next question. If the Destiny can deposit us at any location throughout the world, why do you insist on emerging from it at such great distances from our destination?"  
  
I noticed a grin emerge on Hawk's face from the rear view mirror, the look on Hydra's face suggested that she'd asked that question herself numerous times and been exasperated by the answers.  
  
"I find driving relaxing." Said Manticore with what sounded like irritation in his voice. Obviously he'd been exasperated by the same question more then once.  
  
Anyway, after about an hour's silence that nearly drove me to insanity, stepping out of the car into the cold air and healthy noise of Boston's night life felt like stepping into an air conditioned room during a heat wave.  
  
I donned my sunglasses so as to hide my shadowy eyes and cast a look around me. The closest building to us was a dilapidated apartment complex. This was the kind of place where you expected to see pestiferous children spray painting assorted crap onto walls and fresh urine staining the floor every five meters.   
  
As it turns out, I was right. The place smelt like a toilet that had been left un-flushed for a year. Many of the floor ties were missing and only one light out of every five seemed to work.  
  
"Nice place." I said to no one in particular.  
  
After a few minutes of wandering, we arrived outside a nondescript door. Manticore and the others seemed content to stand outside it instead of doing what any normal person would do and knock.  
  
"Is she expecting us?" I asked once the question had occurred to me.  
  
"Yes." Hydra said plainly.  
  
"I'm guessing there's a reason why we aren't…"   
  
I was cut off suddenly as the door opened. We suddenly found ourselves face to face with a short, Asian looking man who gestured for us to enter, after we did so he said,  
  
"The Oracle will see you shortly, please have a seat."  
  
Doing this was a slightly more difficult task. The room was filled with dozens of assorted children's toys, and a surprising amount of spoons. Anyway, these things occupied all of the available seats, and finding a place to move them seemed like an equally difficult task.  
  
In the end I decided to stand. Again we waited in silence. Hawk looked surprisingly tense, as if she was expecting something to smash through the door and start shooting at us. At the time, I shrugged it off as paranoia.  
  
I was wrong.  
  
*******************************************************************  
  
Things were worse in the dock.  
  
Squid shaped machines, which I would later discover were called Sentinels, were continually emerging from a curiously placed hole in the ceiling. There were about fifty of them, and about twelve of us.  
  
I saw Meridian taking shelter behind a piece of fallen rubble, taking the occasional pot shot at passing sentinels. I inhaled deeply, tried to banish the images of an untimely demise that had found their way into my head, and rushed out into the battle zone.  
  
I dived behind another piece of fallen rubble and quickly looked around for a potential target. Annoyingly, most of the machines seemed to be concentrating on the seven or eight people on the far side of the dock, which was my weapon couldn't reach. I also decided that running over to help would only result in me dying sooner rather then later.  
  
Soon enough however, I found a sentinel that was within range of my fire. The creature seemed to be staring at Meridian, like a predator staring at its lunch before striking. This wasn't the case for long however as both myself and Meridian torched the beast.  
  
This seemed to attract the attention of the sentinels on the far side of the room, about ten of them quickly turned to face us before flying quickly in our direction.  
  
If there was any doubt before, it had now vanished, I was going to die, there was no way we could take them all out before they ripped us limb from limb.  
  
I considered running back the way I came but realised that they could just follow me. In the end, I decided that the best thing I could do was take out as many as I could before I died.  
  
They were about halfway across the dock when it happened.  
  
The deafening, unmistakable sound of gunfire shook the whole room. I looked on in awe as I saw the line of sentinels that was moving towards me be ripped to shreds and fall to the floor by what I could only describe as two huge robots with huge guns. On closer inspection I noticed that there were also drivers.  
  
The remaining sentinels charged for the whole in the ceiling. Most of which were shot down by the aforementioned gun wielding machines. Only two managed to get away.  
  
A cheer emerged from the throats of those in the dock, myself included. The small number of people spread out over the huge space made the noise seem ridiculously quiet however.  
  
After this had died out, Meridian slapped me lightly on the back.  
  
"That should be all of them," there was weariness in her voice mixed with triumph, "come on, we need to report to Commander Locke."  
  
"I'm not actually in the military." I wasn't sure if 'military' was the right word but I was too tired and confused to care  
  
"Well you'll still need to return the gun." She replied with a grin.  
  
I spent a few seconds staring at the weapon in my hands before hauling myself to my feet and following her to the exit.  
  
To be continued.  
  
Right, now for some replies  
  
Agent Josie/Angel-of-lightness: Thankings, looked dead you says she/you did? Odd, oh well, thankings to thyselves for reviewing. I would say something else…So I will,   
  
'Ahem'  
  
Every time I think of you, I think of suicide. (That's a phrase, not a statement. It's only happened twice.)  
  
Tai Wilson: Enjoy the Animatrix. It's not really as good as the films but its good all the same. Anyway, thanks for reviewing. I have no suggestions for writer's block unfortunately.  
  
Nithke: Thanks, it's always nice to see new reviewers. Hope you liked the rest? Damn it that's all I can think of to say, I suck at replies. 


	13. The breaking of necks

Greetings all and thanks for reviewing. Replies are at the end, as per usual. Maybe I should stop saying that, oh well who cares? Onwards to chapter 13.  
  
Chapter 13: The breaking of necks  
  
More stairs.  
  
Lugging a heavy firearm up a seemingly endless flight of stairs when you're battle weary is far from fun let me assure you. Being thirsty in such situations isn't fun either.  
  
Now that there was nothing in a mile long radius that was trying to kill me, my mind found itself entertaining other thoughts, such as why a bunch of sentinels had descended upon Zion. To the best of my somewhat sketchy knowledge there was supposed to have been peace between the machines and humanity. Deciding that I was unlikely to receive an answer any time soon, I stowed the thought and breathed a sigh of relief as the stairs ended and I found myself in a large room filled with what looked like numerous computer screens. All of which seemed to be displaying maps. What they were maps of I was uncertain, but that isn't really the point of the story.  
  
In the distance I saw Locke conversing with a woman who looked almost as tired as I did. I couldn't help but feel slightly annoyed when I noticed Meridian walking towards him. Locke didn't rank high on my list of favourite people.  
  
*******************************************************************  
  
The door smashed open and a stream of gunfire poured in from the hallway. Digitally enhanced reflexes, (is that a pun? Is that accurate? My digital self? Ah who cares?) Anyway, that and unspeakable luck sent everyone crashing to the floor before they could be cut in half by machine gun fire.  
  
The Oracle's receptionist or whoever he was wasted no time in drawing two handguns of his own and emptying their contents into the open door. This was followed a second later by the thud of a falling body.  
  
'Nice.' I remember thinking.  
  
I pulled myself to my feet just as a second figure smashed through the wall behind me. An unusual entrance, but it was effective in sending us to the floor again, mostly to protect ourselves from flying shrapnel and the.  
  
How the second figure had managed to barge through the wall I never found out. But anyway, I was the closest one to him, and upon pulling myself off of the floor for the second time in ten seconds, I found myself evading and blocking numerous blows with limited success.  
  
Hawk provided a rather unexpected solution to the problem.  
  
*******************************************************************  
  
"You were told to wait in your cabin."  
  
I gave Locke the most contemptuous glare that my weary features could muster.  
  
"Would you rather I sat idly by whilst everyone around me got ripped to dust?"  
  
"What I'd like is for fighting to be carried out by military personnel and for civilians to keep out of the way."  
  
I remained silent for a few moments, though I was loathed to admit it, he did have something of a point. In my defence though, I didn't do too badly during the battle, in my opinion, one life saved, 3 downed sentinels, but I digress. I didn't feel like proclaiming my own accomplishments so I instead said,  
  
"It might be my imagination Commander, but it seems like you have more important things to deal with then me."  
  
Locke grunted and walked away from me towards another one of the machines.  
  
"I think he likes you" Meridian said over my shoulder.  
  
"I dread to think what he does to people he hates."  
  
*******************************************************************  
  
Hake removed her teeth from the man's neck and turned to give me a creepy, blood soaked grin. I tried as best as I could to give an amused facial expression but was too disturbed by her choice of dinner, or perhaps it was because I was getting more used to seeing death around me, to give anything more then a somewhat nervous grin.  
  
"What?" She said, "I missed breakfast."  
  
"It's the evening Hawk." I replied, mustering enough self control to make my voice dignified.  
  
A lot more flooded in from both the hallway and the hole in the wall after that. Some were obviously demons, others looked, more or less, human; they were dressed in fancy, black leather attire however, much like myself and the rest of the ascended ones.  
  
I smashed the face of a nearby demon to paste and quickly found myself blocking punches from one of the other enemies. Their fighting style was slightly more sophisticated then that of the Demons. It was harder to reply with some punches of my own.  
  
I eventually succeeded in landing a punch to the guy's face, which was followed up by a somewhat harder punch to the stomach. He crouched slightly with his hands wrapped around his chest as a kick from me sent him into the far wall.  
  
Through the chaos, I noticed two things, one we seemed to be winning. Demons and the mystery enemies were falling left right and centre. I remember referring to them as 'amateurs' before it occurred to me that I'd only done this twice before.  
  
Anyway, the second thing was that someone else had apparently joined the fight, on our side. I examined the newcomer, Black, bald, a bit on the podgy side, he seemed to be holding his own well enough however.  
  
My thought processes were stopped dead in their tracks by a Demon that went for my throat with what looked like a bread knife. I dodged the first swing before snatching the knife from his hands, and slashing it across his ribs.  
  
He screamed and fell to the floor; strange, the cut wasn't even that deep. After that, the anonymous Asian guy and Hydra took down the rest with a few well placed bullets.  
  
There was silence for a few moments as everyone examined the group's handiwork. I think I was feeling a mixture of triumph, and worry because I felt good about slicing and pulverising people. This was soon banished however as I heard the door behind me open, and an elderly looking black woman stepped into the room.  
  
"20 down, 4000 to go."  
  
To be continued  
  
Right, now for replies.  
  
Angel-of-lightness: I hope your misfortune flies from you soon. Thanks to you I now look upon shelves with unnatural fear. Stupid dreams. Driving a motorised tricycle on a motorway is not a good idea.  
  
Agent-Josie: No, I don't read Calvin and Hobbs. I've never even heard of them actually. I would have answered that question earlier but I, uh, forgot. Sorry.  
  
Rhian: The eating of chocolate can also be described as the ingestion of milk, lased with rust.  
  
Tai Wilson: It's not that strange, Rama Kandra or whatever the hell he's called went to see the Oracle about Sati, apparently, and he was also a rogue program. Anyway, thanks for reviewing. The sentinel answer approaches.  
  
blueval and Followthewhitering: They didn't actually review but they've randomly shoved me on their favourite author and/or author alert things. Anyway, thanks to you both. 


	14. Another day of death and pain

Thanks to all reviewers, I'm sure you can guess where the replies are.  
  
Chapter 14: Another day of Death and Pain  
  
At first I thought the screaming was from a nightmare.  
  
I don't know if you've ever been half asleep and heard things from your dreams that sounded like they were happening in the real world as opposed to the dream world. Anyway, my dream that night was about the battle of the previous day. Our fortunes were slightly worse however, and people were getting ripped to shreds left right and centre.  
  
When I woke, all my slumbering mind could do was tell my arm to pick the quilt off of the floor. It took me a few minutes to realise that the screaming I heard from outside the door was actually real.  
  
With this thought firmly implanted in my mind, I instinctively sprung to my feet and charged fool heartedly at the door again. Shreds of common sense restrained me once more when I realised that I didn't have a weapon on me. Granted, I didn't last time but it seemed doubtful that I'd find a conveniently placed dead person whose weapon I could steal.  
  
In the end, and in minimal clothing that made movement slightly awkward, I charged out of the door.  
  
*******************************************************************  
  
The Oracle was seated upon the antiquated couch in the living room, one hand gripping a cigarette which was releasing foul smelling smoke into the air. I remember thinking that assuming I got back to the Destiny, I would have to edit myself so that I could turn off my sense of smell when I saw fit.  
  
Anyway, the assorted corpses and still breathing mounds of flesh on the floor were blissfully silent. Those that had tried to get up had been subdued via a kick to the face. The rest of us were gathered around the Oracle.  
  
"Sentinels have attacked Zion." Though I have less to do with Zion then a mouse pad does with an oven, I couldn't help but feel slightly shocked at this. "Programs and Demons are being uploaded into Sentinels and they have all been instructed to descend upon Zion."  
  
There was gasping followed by silence at this statement.  
  
"Who'd want to become a sentinel?" Asked Hawk after a few moments.  
  
"Those who hate humanity, people who can't get unplugged, the list goes on."  
  
"How much damage have they done?" This question had come from the second unknown person. I remember thinking to myself that he looked slightly familiar.  
  
"Not much," she replied, "and they probably won't for a while. There are too few people to upload to make an effective force."  
  
Morpheus. The infamous Morpheus, scourge of authority and legality in almost every country, I'd heard the name 'Morpheus' mentioned on the news more times then I can remember. Whenever I did, a number of bodies were also frequently mentioned.  
  
"These sentinels are just pawns. They're simply mindless idiots that are following orders. Unfortunately, they're idiots who'll soon rank in too great a number to be defeated. The threat has to be removed now."  
  
"Who are they taking their orders from?" I asked.  
  
"Smith." Morpheus answered for her.  
  
"Neo." She corrected.  
  
"What!?" Screamed almost everyone present.  
  
"Who?" I added.  
  
"When Neo was absorbed by Smith. He caused their destruction, and his coding was consequently thrown across the Matrix. But not before what was left of Smith, his belligerence, his evil, took over Neo's mind."  
  
Another silence lingered among the room of dumbstruck faces. I considered repeating my 'who?' question, but I decided to leave that for later.  
  
"Listen to me Morpheus," the Oracle said, "you can save Neo, but we don't have much time."  
  
*******************************************************************  
  
If you've ever tried to beat a sentinel to death with a thin table leg then you know how difficult a task it is. I had to evade swinging tentacles and smash the beast about the head repeatedly. If it had been in working order it would have undoubtedly killed me.  
  
I was somewhat relieved when Meridian arrived with a spare firearm. I accepted the weapon with a courteous nod and frazzled the sentinel where it lay.  
  
Around me there were roughly 40 other sentinel corpses with people shooting at them to ensure that they stayed on the floor.  
  
Behind me, Meridian looked like she was on the verge of laughing hysterically.  
  
"Oh come on, it wasn't that funny." This brought forth the laughter that had been clearly been building up inside of her. Despite my irritation, I found myself laughing with her after a few moments.  
  
We walked up the accursed stairs to Commander Locke's office once more. I had no doubt that this would be as fun as our last conversation.  
  
Sure enough, I was right.  
  
"You just never learn do you?"  
  
"I'm not going to sit idly by whilst everyone around me gets killed." We were almost shouting at each other.  
  
"Have you considered joining the infantry?" Meridian said unrepentantly.   
  
"Dismissed." Locke said to her. She shrugged, saluted and left.  
  
"Was there anything else?"  
  
"No," he snapped, "get out of my sight."  
  
I seriously considered punching him, but after a second I had a better idea. I bowed elaborately, and left. (That wasn't the idea.)  
  
*******************************************************************  
  
"Morpheus," I half shouted from the far side of the room, "you got a minute?"  
  
Morpheus was on the verge of leaving. The Oracle had told us what we needed to do. For the ascended ones that meant killing Demons left right and centre.  
  
Anyway, Morpheus closed the door and stepped back towards me.  
  
"Yes?" He asked impatiently.  
  
"Four years ago, a small café in Birmingham exploded, killing the three people inside," my voice was becoming chocked slightly, "the authorities claimed that you did it. Is that true."  
  
A silence lingered in the room. Our conversation had peaked the interest of those present who were looking on with keen interest.  
  
"Yes," he replied, "I had to; those three people had been transformed into agents, they were…"  
  
I stopped listening after 'yes'. I inhaled sharply, nodded, and punched him in the face with as much strength as I could muster.  
  
The reason I did this was because my brother died in this explosion. Afterwards I'd sworn vengeance and wanted more then anything to drain the life out of the motherless bastard that had killed him. When I realised that this was as close to impossible as was possible, I mourned, and got on with my life. Then I found him within my reach.  
  
I drew one of my swords and lunged towards Morpheus, only to feel tight grips around both of my arms. I was screaming threats and fighting to get free of Manticore and Hydra's grip until Hawk injected me with something. I passed out after this.  
  
To be continued.  
  
Right, now for replies.  
  
Angel-of-lightness: I have heard of your misfortuned misfortune from the review of my latest foolery. Good news is this, now your disease shall wither and die in the cold air of (Insert village name here) with any luck. I tried your screen saver advice but it doesn't work with PowerPoint presentations. Shame really, it would have looked like Matrix coding was scrolling down the screen. Oh well, thanks anyway and thanks for reviewing. Computer fixing may take a while. To be honest everyone seems happier without having to listen to it screech at us. I'll see what can be done rest assured.  
  
Agent-Josie: I shall flick through the pages of a Calvin and Hobbs book assuming I find one the next time I go to Norwich. Then I shall loose track of time and wind up missing the last bus. Thanks for reviewing. Right, now I have to read and review your latest chapter.  
  
Tai Wilson: I hate writer's block. I would offer advice on how to overcome it if I had any but alas I don't. Oh well. Have I said this in a previous reply? If so then I apologise. Thanks for reviewing. How'd you like the Animatrix? 


	15. Stress Relief

Thankings to all reviewing persons once more. (I'm going to have to think of a better opening line.)  
  
Chapter 15: Stress Relief  
  
The street around me was cold. There weren't many pedestrians. That isn't right; there should have been hundreds of them. It was 8:00pm, it was almost Christmas. The street should have been filled with shoppers who procrastinated earlier in the month.  
  
I cast my eyes around the street and I saw him. He was alternating between talking with the cashier and drinking coffee. I knew what came next, I'd seen it before. I just hadn't seen it for a while.  
  
I charged across the street, my legs felt like they'd lost the will to live. It didn't really matter anyway. Seamus and the other two vanished in a deafening blast that engulfed the whole café. I stand, paralysed, same as always, too shocked to move, not that I could if I wanted to.  
  
Across the street, I saw the other one. This hadn't happened before. IT happened this time however, I saw him, Morpheus, strolling down the street, his long black coat swaying in the wind. Immaculate.   
  
I tried to move again, nothing. My legs refused to work. He cast a glance in my direction and waved something in the air that might have been a stick of dynamite, or a detonator, I don't know.   
  
Awake.  
  
My eyes shot open and I found myself with a familiar sense of faint, lingering shock that accompanied the nightmare I'd been having on random nights since Seamus died. I lay motionless for a long while, I didn't want to move until I'd remembered everything that had happened the night before.  
  
Gradually, it came to me, vague images appearing randomly until I'd pieced together enough to fill in the remaining blanks.  
  
I looked around me, the room was all white, the bright piercing light that hurt my eyes once again. I was back in the Destiny. I was lying on a chair commonly used by therapy patients, and Dragon was sitting in a leather chair that seemed to mould itself around him.  
  
"Morning." He looked nervous. Something forced its way through the growing anger within me that brought out an involuntary grin on my face.  
  
"How long?" I asked, forcing the grin and the amusement back down.  
  
"About 9 hours." His tone seemed to alternate between sympathetic, deadpan, and nervous.  
  
I lay motionless and silent for about two minutes, searching for something appropriate to say. Nothing sprung to mind however.  
  
"Do you want to talk about it?"  
  
"What's there to say? I tried to kill him, I failed."  
  
"Do you want to say why you tried to kill him?"  
  
"Not really."  
  
He nodded; obviously this was what he'd been expecting.   
  
"Do you want to be alone?"  
  
"Dragon," I wasn't really up for conversation, maybe I should have said yes, "I really don't care."  
  
He nodded gain and remained in his seat.  
  
"We got a call from the Oracle." It took me a little while for my brain to assimilate this information. I was still a little groggy and with feelings of murderous rage and frustration circling about in my head, I couldn't immediately remember who the Oracle was.  
  
"What does she want?"  
  
"The Demons are going to attack a series of villages in Northern Island." This peaked my interest, "unless we stop them, a lot of people are going to die."  
  
Don't ask me why, but this news made me feel slightly better. Not because of the people dying, but because an opportunity to vent my anger had presented itself.  
  
"When do we leave?" I asked.  
  
Four hours later  
  
The first van exploded instantly, killing all twelve demons that had crammed themselves within it. I couldn't help but think why Dragon hadn't revealed the rocket launcher he had concealed within his right arm. This thought was quickly banished however.  
  
The Demons sprung from the second van in the clumsiest fashion imaginable, many fell over or tripped over fallen colleagues. Two actually ran back the way they came.  
  
"Shall we?" Manticore asked with disturbing calm.  
  
Lifting ourselves over the top of the small hill near the road, we opened fire on the rabble of Demons. Hawk took out one with a well placed bullet to the heart; at least I think it came from her. It's not the kind of thing you really notice in such situations. What you notice is that one enemy target is dead. Who did the deed doesn't matter.  
  
Another's head exploded as a bullet smashed through her skull into her brain. Less then a week ago, the sight would have made me vomit. Now I just regarded it with marginal disgust.  
  
We took out another as the Demons scattered and looked for cover. Four of the fools hid behind their van. Dragon released another rocket, directly at the fuel tank.  
  
The vehicle exploded, sending ripped, charred, airborne Demon corpses back several meters.   
  
The ones that had chosen slightly more appropriate cover returned fire. Bullets scraped off of and buried themselves within the wet mud of the hill. We instinctively ducked our heads so as to keep them on our shoulders. After a few seconds, the gunfire stopped. Presumably to allow the Demons to check how much damage they'd inflicted upon us.  
  
We wasted no time.  
  
Hastily pulling ourselves over the hill, we charged at the enemy with the same inhuman speed that Manticore and myself had used before. The Demons began shooting randomly, the few bullets that would have hit us were dodged effortlessly, and with knives, fists and arm mounted blades, we unleashed Hell. Sorry about the cliché usage but I couldn't think of anything else.  
  
Hydra buried her knife deep into the chest of one demon before slinging it into the head of another, or so she claims, I was distracted somewhat by three that were using a surprisingly skilful collection of moves to try and kill me.  
  
I dodged a kick to my head that would have given me a small concussion if it had landed, if I was my old self it probably would have killed me.  
  
With one arm mounted sword, I severed the leg of the next Demon who tried that. I then buried the other sword onto the one of the left.  
  
The remaining Demon turned his tail and ran. For a moment I considered letting him go. Thoughts of Seamus, bloodlust, hatred for the Demons and the remainder of my murderous emotions sent me after him however. Seconds after this, his head fell from his shoulders.  
  
24 Demons dead, not a scratch on us.   
  
I couldn't help but wonder tomorrow's papers would say.  
  
To be continued.  
  
Right, now for replies.  
  
Angel-of-lightness: Everyone should be uploaded into a sentinel at least once for the experience alone. Then they will see that flying isn't as easy as it looks. Thanks for reviewing, avoid sharp pointy things to prevent blood loss.  
  
Tai Wilson: Good luck with your writing ways, it'll be hard to make a realistic evil Neo, it's hard enough to write about the conventional one in my experience. Oh well, thanks for reviewing.  
  
Agent Josie: Expect the worst I shall. Actually, knowing me I'll forget within a few moments. Oh well. You need burn nothing today or tomorrow or whenever you read this. Unless of course you want to. Thanks for reviewing. 


	16. Return?

Thanks once again to all reviewers.  
  
Chapter 16: Return?   
  
It was a strange day.  
  
I woke for once not to the sound of screaming but to the sound of a knock at my door. This was a welcome change from the majority of the mornings of the last few days. The sentinel attacks had become more and more frequent, and they were arriving in greater and greater numbers.   
  
I hauled myself out of bed and pulled my clothes over my weary figure. All the while telling whoever it was at the door to wait a minute. This only served to make the knocking louder and more frequent however.  
  
After a few moments, I pulled open the door and was surprised to see a grinning Commander Locke on the other side of it.  
  
"Jason." I said by way of a greeting. I had discovered that me calling him by his first name annoyed him no end.  
  
"Drexler." The grin barely flinched, "I have a proposition for you."  
  
*******************************************************************  
  
"Mind if I join you?" The voice was Hawks.  
  
"No." I said as pleasantly my resentment would allow. I hadn't said much to anyone since we'd returned from our most recent attack on the Demons. Mainly because I'd realised that Hawk, Manticore and Hydra were the reason Morpheus was still alive. My mind kept telling me that I'd have done the same if one of them had gone berserk and tried to kill a seemingly innocent person. But my subconscious or some other part of me was screaming at me to exact some sort of vengeance. For the most part, I could control that desire.  
  
Hawk sat down upon the barstool and seemed to examine the drink in her hand as if it were the most interesting thing within a hundred mile radius.   
  
"I'm sorry." She said in as low a tone of voice as I'd ever heard from her.  
  
I was about to tell her not to worry about it when I realised that I hadn't told her why I'd clouted Morpheus. After a few seconds it came to me. Fucking telepathy.   
  
I remembered the dream, Dragon was in the room with me, maybe he was watching. Maybe one of the others read something when it entered my mind. I don't know. The point is that Hawk, and presumably everybody else now knew that I was trying to avenge my brother's death.   
  
"Wanderer?"  
  
I'd obviously been lost in thought longer then I'd realised. It had been happening a lot lately. I felt better when I could engulf myself in thought and block out the world around me. Sometimes it took serious effort to drag myself back into the virtual reality.  
  
"Wanderer?" Her voice was slightly louder now.  
  
"Sorry." I paused again for a while, "I'll be fine. And I don't blame you; at least I won't for long." Strangely enough this brought out a grin from me; and her a second afterwards.  
  
I quickly downed the remnants of my drink and threw my glass into the void that doubled up as the ceiling. This would then, somehow, clean the glasses and place them back in the cupboard near the bar.  
  
Anyway, neither of us wanted to pursue this conversation topic any further, we then got onto talking about the scores of dead Demons in various places around the world, all courtesy of us. We'd been thwarting their attacks for just over a week now, and the media was starting to take note of our accomplishments.  
  
The theory went that civilians in a smattering of countries had banded together to form their own vigilante groups. All of which had been dubbed 'The Angels'. Cute isn't it? Anyway, forensics teams couldn't find any trace of who might have killed them. Before we started our attacks on them. We'd all edited ourselves so that we left no finger prints, our hair now wouldn't fall our if someone took a swing at it with a scythe, even the bullets from our guns had been designed to vanish without a trace after the Demon they had been inserted into was officially dead. (Or after ten seconds if we missed.) In short, there was no way any of this could be traced to us. Ah the joys of modern technology.  
  
*******************************************************************  
  
"So what do you say?"  
  
Locke and I hadn't moved from the space around the doorway. He was happy enough to stand near the entrance whilst he introduced me to his 'offer'. Given the current situation, it sounded more like an offer for suicide.  
  
"So let me get this straight," a frustrated expression emerged on his face, which I ignored, "you're sending a ship to the surface so that they can enter the Matrix see if they can find out why the Sentinels are attacking us right?"  
  
"Right?"  
  
"You do know that the agents or whatever they call it will probably start shooting at any human they see right?"  
  
"My people know how to look after themselves."  
  
"And you want me to go with them."  
  
"That's right," the grin returned. It was more disturbing then annoying, "most of our un-plugged ship crews were killed when the fleet was destroyed. The only ship we have left is the Logos, which the machines returned to us…"  
  
"That was nice of them."  
  
"As I was saying," he was now barely opening his mouth to speak, obviously what he said next was difficult for him, "you've already proven that you can keep a level head in a crisis, you're the best candidate for the final space that's available."  
  
I remained silent for a few minutes, considering the somewhat vague proposal that had just been offered to me. I soon realised that I was faced with a choice; I could stay here and shoot at sentinels until one got lucky and ripped my head from my shoulders. Or I could go to the source of the problem, (or not, for all I knew,) and put an end to it for good. (Or get shot, which was the more likely occurrence.   
  
Truth be told, I was actually interested to see how I'd see the Matrix now that I'd left it.  
  
"Alright." I said.  
  
"Good. Pack your things and report to Captain Niobe in the dock in an hour."  
  
To be continued.  
  
Right, now for replies.  
  
Tai Wilson: Glad you liked it. I can't think of anything else to say, as per usual. Writing replies tends to take longer then writing the chapter. Oh well, thanks for reviewing and good luck with your story.  
  
Saphire Night: Thank you, alas, truth be told, i have neither the time not the patients to destroy your garden. I also don't know where it is. Anyway, thanks for reviewing, good luck with your exams and a second custom built well wishing can be inserted here if you wish. (..............................................)  
  
Agent Josie: HA! You're too late. I already fear for my life. That's not really a good thing now that i think about it. Oh well, is it my imagination or has Naz mysteriously vanished? Having said that she'll probably appear on at least three fronts. Thanks for reviewing.   
  
Just so you know, 'pere' means father. Frere means brother. I think. It's been a while since i did French. Thanks for reviewing ARGH! WHERE ARE MY LIMBS as well.  
  
Goodnight all. 


	17. Change of scenery

Thanks once more to reviewers. Contrary to tradition, I think I'll start with some replies:  
  
Agent Josie: Damn it, I can't remember what you said. Well actually I can but I can't remember whether or not that was for this or ARGH WHERE ARE MY LIMBS?! Oh well, let me think. Salut as you may or may not know means 'hi' so i question the logic at putting that at the end of a review. Talk your way out of that one if you can. P.S. Thanks for reviewing.  
  
Tai Wilson: Prepare to be disappointed, nah just kidding, I hope. Anyway, thanks for reviewing.   
  
Chapter 17: Change of scenery  
  
Contrary to what Locke told me, there were two ships in the dock that were being loaded with assorted goods. I contemplated several possibilities for why Locke might have lied to me before shrugging and walking towards the smaller of the ships, which I'd been told was the Logos.  
  
Captain Niobe was a fairly short woman with dark hair that flowed down to her neck. And a stare that made you think that she'd ram her fingers through your eyes at any second just to amuse herself.  
  
"Are you Drexler?" She asked impatiently.  
  
"Drexler is I." I replied, wondering whether or not I should extend a hand, in the end I didn't get the chance. Niobe retreated back up the ramp with me struggling to keep up.  
  
"Welcome to the Logos," she said hurriedly whilst talking to two other people at once, it was hard for me to pick out the words that were addressed at me. I think it went something like:  
  
"Your cabin is the furthest down the hall to your right, stow your gear and then report to the main deck for uploads, in case your wondering, the second ship is what we could salvage from the Hammer, currently under the command of Captain Morpheus, repairs to…"  
  
"Morpheus?" I half shouted involuntarily.   
  
She stopped dead and turned to face me. The look on her face seemed to be a curious mix of concern, anger and frustration.  
  
"Yes, what of it?"  
  
"It's probably nothing." I said waving a hand in the air in a dismissive gesture, "my family had, uh, dealings with someone called Morpheus. But nowadays there are more Morpheuses then there are traffic lights."  
  
It was true. Since the real Morpheus became famous, thousands upon thousands of duckweeds took up the name of the illustrious hacker. They would then go on to get arrested for computer crimes, get arrested for vandalism, or on some occasions, do more adventurous things like rob petrol stations or blow up…  
  
Yes well anyway, Niobe nodded stared at with her with 'imminent eye gouging' stare for a few seconds before turning her attention back to a maintenance worker or someone who was waving a clipboard or something similar in front of her face.  
  
"Why are you here?" She asked suddenly, her voice was raised slightly; I was a little surprised that I didn't flinch.  
  
"Truth be told," I paused for a second wondering whether or not I was about to tell a joke or the truth, "I think that Jas…" I cut myself off, "Commander Locke sorry, just wants to get rid of me."  
  
This time her stare combined confussion and amusement. Maybe she thought that me and Locke were lovers. I never found out.   
  
"Look," her voice dropped slightly, "I'm guessing that Locke isn't exactly your favourite person, but he's not an idiot. He wouldn't have given you this posting if he didn't think you could handle it. Now I'm rapidly running out of time, any questions?"  
  
"Why did you ask me why I was here then? Ma'am." The last word was added hastily as I remembered that I was now in the military."  
  
Traces of a grin emerged on Niobe's face as she turned and left. I walked back down the corridor towards my room, (in which, annoyingly, many a crate had been stored.)   
  
*******************************************************************  
  
It had been a long day, three separate Demon attacks as opposed to the conventional 'one every two days'. Their activities had become more frequent over the last month. It soon became feared that the attacks would become too fast and frequent for us to handle.  
  
On the way back to the destiny, I took another bite out of the chicken burger that I had purchased from the café on the seafront. It was the first meal I'd had all month. I was surprised by how the taste still seemed familiar. I made a note to myself to start eating more often.  
  
The nice thing about being an ascended one is that you don't have to worry about such pesky things as weight gain, cholesterol, starvation etc. Your weight remains exactly the same unless you decide to change it.  
  
"Any news about Neo and the sentinel attacks?" Asked Hydra suddenly. (In case you were wondering why people didn't point and gawk when they saw a green skinned person with a tail wandering around, she has the ability to make herself look human.)  
  
"None." Replied Manticore, "the Oracle never tells us anything except when and where the Demons will strike."  
  
"Figures." She replied, "Speaking of Demons, who has the highest head count?"  
  
Ah yes, the head count, this was, as you may have guessed, a friendly competition between us as to who could collect the most Demon heads. At one time this would have made me sick to my stomach. But experience it seemed had driven squeamishness from me. Alas I was still doing poorly.  
  
"I think it's me." Said Hawk whilst holding her latest head up for all to see. The look of pain on the head's face was bizarrely, and disturbingly comical, "this makes 15."  
  
It almost felt too easy. The Demons were falling left right and centre. The resistance they offered was pathetic at best, and many would flee the battle zone at the sight of one of our guns. It soon occurred to me that they were just a motley collection of thugs with the experience, style and skill of a group of blind shrews. Despite this however, I kept expecting out luck to turn around and bit us in the arse in the not to distant future.  
  
And when we got back to the Destiny, that is exactly what happened.  
  
To be continued.  
  
Something of a short one I know, fear not, the next one should be longer. 


	18. No

Thanks to all reviewers, as what is almost always, replies are at the end of the chapter.  
  
Phrase for the fortnight: The only thing that made me feel better was the thought of ripping out your entrails.  
  
Just so you know, I never played 'Enter the Matrix' and my knowledge of the Logos, its crew and so forth is marginal at best. If I screw anything up then please tell me and I'll try to correct it.  
  
Note to self, must end with a cliffhanger.  
  
Chapter 18: No.  
  
It was a few seconds before I could inhale; the new knowledge and accompanying headache were swimming about in my cranium. In the corner of my eye I noticed that Sparks, my sadistic operator, was busy loading another disk in to the unreasonably large machine he was perched in front of. I gripped the sides of the chair and prepared for another upload, or is it download? Ah who cares?  
  
It was an unspeakably weird experience. You'd expect the seemingly constant influx of knowledge to overwhelm you, assuming of course the headaches didn't. In reality though, everything that was shoved in my brain was as clear as a disturbingly large phone bill. Part of me kept wondering however whether or not my head was going to explode.  
  
"How's he doing?' I recognised the voice as Niobe's. Shortly before receiving a short, thorough and painful crash course in how to drive motorbikes.  
  
"Four hours, no screaming."  
  
"How many of these disks are there?" I groaned from my seat.  
  
"Almost two days worth." Sparks chortled in reply.   
  
I resisted the urge to groan with despair and instead inhaled sharply as another heap of pain was shoved into my head.  
  
*******************************************************************  
  
There were about fifteen of them.  
  
The first thing I noticed was that three of them were lying on the leaf strewn floor; they looked as if they'd been burned to death via a lightning strike. I didn't have time to wonder how they'd ended up in that state however as the first guy came at me with what looked like a Samurai sword.  
  
I barely managed to dodge the first swing, it was aimed just below the ribs, making it all that more difficult to avoid. These guys weren't your bog standard half wit demon. They were professionals, with a very good chance of killing us.  
  
I was slightly quicker with my gun then he was with his sword. I fired twice, once into what was probably his heart, once into his chest. The force of the bullet entering at such a close range would have hit him like a battering ram, thereby preventing any further pestiferous swipes of his sword.  
  
The rest of the group, who had moved a few steps behind me, drew their own guns and fired into the ranks of suavely dressed programs. Unlike their fallen comrade however, they knew the bullets were coming and dodged them with ease. It soon became apparent that this was going to come down to a fist fight.  
  
I stowed my gun hastily, drew both of my arm mounted swords and advanced towards the enemy.  
  
*******************************************************************  
  
After what was apparently eight hours, which felt more like eight minutes. (Perception of time goes to hell when you're getting mounds of shit shoved in your head.) Anyway, I found myself sitting in the mess hall pushing my spoon back and forth in the bowl of runny ooze which I had been condemned to eat.  
  
The first time I tried it, it felt like I was eating my own vomit. I remember thinking how the stereotypes about healthy food were true in the real world, which wouldn't be so bad if it wasn't the only sodding food.  
  
Sorry, I'm drifting from the subject, my head was throbbing slightly, but the painkillers that Ghost handed me after I left the chair had dealt with the worst of it. I took the moment o solitude to reflect upon what had happened to my life over the last few months. I'd been doing this quite a lot recently. In spite of everything that had happened, the situation still, at times, was difficult to believe. The annoyingly frequent dreams of my old life weren't helping. Especially when I usually saw Seamus die in them.  
  
I doubted it was the same Morpheus, like I said, there were thousands of them, and why a freedom fighter would want to blow up a café was, at the time, a mystery to me. Still, the name wasn't the easiest one to hear, or think about.  
  
I told myself that I'd have to get used to it however, at the same time as the proximity alarm sounded. Panic took hold for a few seconds before the 'training' kicked in. I shot out of the door and towards one of the gun turrets.  
  
*******************************************************************  
  
I buried the sword as far into the program as I could before pulling it out and swinging it at a program who was sneaking up behind me with what looked like a butcher knife in hand. My sword impacted about halfway up his neck and cut downwards at about a 33 degree angle. The head rolled slightly on the mud before coming to a halt, the face looked bizarrely peaceful. I guess he didn't have time to scream.  
  
Two kills in a matter of seconds is a rare occurrence for me, I usually only scrape one in a single attack on the demons, it was the reason I was doing so poorly on the head count. Anyway, the enemy were thinning out now, and a quick glance over my surroundings told me that everyone was still alive.   
  
About ten metres away I noticed that Hawk was having a harder time then was usual in dealing with a program that was wielding a broadsword. I retracted the sword on my right hand, drew the gun from the holster in my coat, took aim, and watched in horror as the sword passed through Hawk's stomach.  
  
My mind froze. This time it was worse then it had been after my first kill. I stared at Hawk's corpse in utter disbelief, unable to do anything else. Part of me wanted to fall to the floor and sleep, or at least block out the world as much as was possible, another, more influential part of me had a better idea.  
  
I scream as I emptied my remaining bullets at the program. Either I was quicker then he was, or I'd startled him or something, because all but two of my seven bullets smashed into him. Sick satisfaction filled me as his head exploded with the third shot. This was quickly replaced however as I noticed Hawks, bloodied, twitching body on the…  
  
Twitching?  
  
That's pretty much how it happened. I stared in a sense of shock that almost matched the first as Hawk slowly clawed her way to her feet. The gun in my hand dropped to the floor and I moved over towards her.  
  
"What?" She asked in response to my dumbstruck expression.  
  
"Oh," she said suddenly in understanding before grinning at me, revealing her bloodstained teeth, "I'm a Vampire Wanderer, remember? It takes a wooden stake through the heart to kill me."  
  
"What," I cut myself off, feeling chocked with relief and confussion, "um," I cut myself off again, there seemed to be nothing to say and I was beginning to feel somewhat embarrassed.   
  
"Come on," she said, staring at the hole in her jumper, the wound had vanished. More tricks of editing, "we should probably get inside."  
  
To be continued.  
  
Right, now for replies:  
  
Angel-Of-Lightness: Marvellous thing is your return to the shadowy realm of Fanfiction.net. Now you must find a large tarantula or possibly a scorpion to defend the machine against your sister. Thanks for your string of reviews over the last few hours.  
  
Agent Josie: You have overlooked the fact that the blind shrews don't know where i live. Even if they did, they'd probably get lost, stumble onto a motorway and get run over by two or more motorcycles. Besides, what they don't know won't hurt them. Thanks for reviewing.  
  
Tai Wilson: What's your opinion on cliff-hangers? Do you think they're a good or bad way to end a chapter? In either case, thanks for reviewing. Shit, I've still got to read Crossfire.  
  
SaphireNight: I disagree. Cliff-hangers can add suspense to a story and make the reader want more, I guess if you use them too often however then the reader may go for your throat with a pizza cutter. In either case, thanks for reviewing. 


	19. Fall at the first hurdle

Sorry it's taken me a while to upload this.  
  
Anyway, thankings to all reviewers, as per usual, replies are at the end of the chapter.  
  
Chapter 19: Fall at the first hurdle   
  
The bullets smashed into the sentinel's outer casing and wreaked havoc with its innards. Killing sentinels, as I soon discovered, was much more fun when you were using a gun turret as opposed to a bulky electricity cannon, (I never found out what they were actually called, that's just my name for them), and there was a reasonably small number of them.  
  
The Hammer had more gun turrets then the Logos, so many of the kills went to them, there were only about fifteen sentinels, and looking back, I was probably lucky to get the two kills that I did. My skill with a gun turret was to Ghost's and Sparks' what caffeine is to amphetamine. I was spending almost twice the ammo that they were using to destroy a single sentinel. Still, I consoled myself with the fact tat I'd probably get better with practice.  
  
Then they came.  
  
Again, it was sentinels, almost 200 of them. All of which were charging towards us with disturbing speed. The gunfire ceased for a second whilst we stared in horror at the sight, then we quickly came to our senses and unleashed another wave of gunfire on the enemy.   
  
Sentinels began dropping out of the sky left, right and centre. Unfortunately, the small shower of mechanical corpses that fell to the floor was probably not even a tenth of the sea of mechanical demons that was charging towards us.  
  
The Hammer wasn't as fast as the Logos, and the sentinels landed there first. I quickly swung my gun turret around to face the hammer and started shooting as best as I could at the beasts that seemed to be lasering their way in to the ship.  
  
The first one died before it had even landed, it fell backwards slightly before falling to join its friends on the pipe's floor. The next target was somewhat more awkward, its claws were already dug into the hull, and though it died when one of my bullets smashed into its 'head', it retained its tenacious grip on the hull. It was the same story with the next five.  
  
Fear clawed its way into my head and began to burn as I heard the first metallic gongs overhead. The sentinels had landed on the Logos. I tried to twist my turret back around to see if I could pick them off, but I soon noticed that several 'arms' or tentacles or whatever, had grabbed onto my turret and were holding it steadily in place.   
  
"A little help here!" I shouted over the gongs and the constant sound of gunfire.  
  
"Get to the EMP!" Screamed Ghost, who seemed to be fighting the sentinels over control of his own turret.  
  
I lifted the harness from over my head and charged towards where the small illuminated red switch lay. It was surprising to think that something so small could save us all, but in the grand scheme of things, I didn't really care.  
  
I was within five meters of the thing when a huge jolt sent me crashing to the floor. This was followed by a longer shaking that gradually calmed itself, it soon occurred to me that the Logos had crashed.  
  
"Hurry!" Screamed Sparks from somewhere behind me.   
  
I pulled myself to my feet and continued running.  
  
At first I didn't pay much attention to it. My mind was aware of the hole in the ceiling, but not to the extent where it cared. The only thing that mattered was hitting that switch. When the first sentinel came through though, my priorities shifted somewhat.  
  
I searched desperately for an electricity cannon to dispatch the beast in front of me, it soon occurred to me that there were none anywhere near me however, it didn't really matter anyway. One of the beast's arms shot forward and grabbed me around the neck.  
  
It lifted me into the air about two meters and held me there. The grip around my neck was tight, tight enough to prevent my breathing. I struggled to pull the arm away from me but failed miserably. Things began to look dimmer.  
  
The last thing I remember was a scream from somewhere behind me.  
  
*******************************************************************   
  
"External defences." Said Dragon gesturing at one of the charred corpses on the floor, "Any unauthorised person who comes too close to the Destiny gets burned to a crisp."  
  
"What about if they're just a random person out for a stole?"  
  
"Then we generate a ghostly noise and send them running the other way."  
  
"Neat."  
  
Me and Dragon had been assigned the fun task of moving the corpses into the Destiny. The last thing we needed was for anyone to see any of these, and at the time we thought they might make interesting decorations.  
  
"You like her don't you?" Dragon asked after a few moments of silence. There was a somewhat immature tone to his voice.  
  
"Like who?" I replied as we threw the program into the 'tree'.  
  
"Don't be a wanker Wanderer; you know damn well who I'm talking about.. I've seen the way you look at her, and then there was that whole display earlier when she was stabbed through the chest."  
  
Dragon's callous tone made punching him seem very tempting. Then again, I figured that at his age, nothing seemed especially surprising and disturbing. I decided to give him the benefit of the doubt.  
  
"For all I knew she'd just been killed." I forced frustration into my voice in the hopes of getting him off my back. "I would have done the same for you, Hydra or Manticore."  
  
"I'm touched." Dragon was grinning now, "but that still doesn't change the fact that I've seen the way you've been staring at her, that and your head revealed a few things."  
  
I threw a severed head into the Destiny and turned to stare at him. I had made my feelings about people peering inside my cranium perfectly clear, (going in after my attack on Morpheus was fair enough I suppose but this.)  
  
It then occurred to me that I'd never so much as considered entering someone else's head. I kept reminding myself to do so but I could never really be bothered. That and I wasn't entirely sure how to.  
  
"Do you remember what I told you about pissing about inside my head?" My tone was as serious and as threatening as I could muster. Beneath it all though, I couldn't help but feel somewhat amused.  
  
"It was an accident." Pleaded Dragon in a sarcastically apologetic tone of voice, "I found it when I went in to find out why…" He cut himself off. I knew what he was going to say, and the last thing that I wanted to hear, talk about or be reminded of was my brother's death at the hands of Morpheus, or the fact that I'd failed in my attempt to kill him.  
  
"I'm sorry." Dragon said in a more genuine tone of voice.  
  
I sighed and ignored him for a few moments, hastily trying to banish the mental imagery of Seamus' fiery death, (and Dragon with a broken nose), whilst I pushed another corpse into the Destiny.  
  
"It's alright." I said, concluding that it was a simple and forgivable accident, "Just don't do it again."  
  
There was silence for a few moments, each of us collected random body pieces and hurled them into the Destiny with needless force. If nothing else, I remembered thinking; He seemed to have finally shut up about Hawk.  
  
"So," he said after a minute or two, "Are you going to tell her?"  
  
Bastard.  
  
To be continued.  
  
Right, now for replies:  
  
Angel-Of-Lightness: I would have changed to saying 'Naz' in the replies section many a month ago, but this way I get a higher word count. Your review and mad story uploading suggests that you were thrice as hyper as usual yesterday. I hope it was an enjoyable experience and that you didn't loose any blood. Thanks for reviewing.  
  
Tai Wilson: I was going to start by saying enjoy Alabama, but by the time you read this you'll have been and gone, probably. Oh well, I hope you enjoy/enjoyed it and thanks for reviewing.  
  
Agent Josie: Sheesh, its never enough for some people. Nah, seriously though. Thanks for reviewing. I was originally going to end with Hawk 'apparently' dead on the floor, but I'd already done something similar in Army of Exiles and I didn't want to start any patterns. 


	20. Senseless Senses

Right, thanks to all reviewers once again, and the replies are at the end of the chapter as per usual.  
  
Chapter 20: Senseless senses  
  
I woke, barely, to find myself sprawled across the floor with a sharp pain in my throat, my lungs deprived off oxygen, fear, confussion and weariness still lingering within some indeterminable section of my cranium, another sharp pain in my left leg, and no feeling in my right leg.  
  
I twisted my head around me, at first the only things I could make out were the fizzing corpses of deceased sentinels, they were everywhere. At first I thought that someone of the Hammer had been luckier with the EMP then we had been. Then my blurry vision improved somewhat and I noticed that these sentinels hadn't been disabled by EMP; they'd been clawed to death.  
  
Most of the corpses were missing half a head. Some looked like they'd been smashed into the wall; others looked like they'd been crudely ripped in half. Wiring and metallic fragments littered the deck plating; I soon saw that several f these metallic fragments had embedded themselves in my right leg, which made a habit of reminding me that it was injured every time I tried to move.  
  
It took me a while to prop myself up against the wall, on the far side of the room I noticed Sparks, unconscious in his gunnery chair, his arms dangled at his sides, his head was tilted back, giving me a good view of his forehead and nose, blood dripped from his face, I was too far away to see if he was breathing or not. Ghost was nowhere to be seen.  
  
"Captain!" I screamed at the pilot's compartment, I couldn't get a good look inside from where I was standing. My guess was that everyone but me was dead, and that the sentinels had decided to do me a favour by killing themselves. An unlikely occurrence but I didn't have any better theories at the time.  
  
There was no answer from the pilot's compartment. I began preparing myself for yet more pain and tried to edge my way towards the operator's station, maybe, I thought, someone on the Hammer was still alive, a task that was easier said that done considering I had to crawl across the entire deck and then down a ladder with two fucked up legs.  
  
I barely made it five meters before I heard the whirring I had come to associate with sentinels in flight.  
  
Panic exploded in my head, I flicked my head from side to side in the hopes of finding something to incinerate of bash it to death with, again, no luck. I tried to increase my pace but my legs refused to work, in the end, I think I just accepted the fact that I was going to die; soon.  
  
Or so I thought.  
  
The sentinel crawled through the hole in the ceiling, it surprised me how it kept getting stuck and having to pull away more deck plating, I would have expected better from an A.I. Anyway, the beast came through the hole, it didn't take it long to find me. My mouth formed an expression that was somewhere between a grin and a resentful smirk, and I waited for the machine to tear me to ribbons or do whatever it was planning to do.  
  
The whirring suddenly became louder, I didn't notice it at first, I was too busy trying to hastily say goodbye to everyone I wanted to, the list was surprisingly short. And to be honest, I got distracted after a few seconds by the fact that I never got to exact vengeance on the 'Ascended Ones'.   
  
Seeing the second sentinel come through the roof was a startling sight, for the first sentinel as well as me I'd guess. The second machine buried its claws into the first sentinel, smashing away the casing and wreaking havoc with its innards, before pulling away something that looked like a mix between a small black cube and an engine from a car. The machine, what was left of it, fell to the floor with an almost deafening cluck.  
  
The first sentinel turned to stare at me, and I wondered briefly, one, why it had killed its companion obviously, two, whether it had done so because it wanted to kill me itself. My knowledge of sentinel psychology was, and still is, somewhat limited.   
  
Instead, the beast gently grasped my limbs with its 'arms', and slowly lifted me into the air. Another sentinel was tearing away even more deck plating, no doubt so as to create a hole that I could fit through.  
  
The pain was negligible, the sentinel was careful to avoid bashing into anything or making any sudden movements. Through the confussion and lingering traces of fear, an awkward part of my brain remembered common courtesy  
  
"Thanks." I said somewhat wearily.  
  
What I saw next was, for lack of a better word, odd.   
  
There was a huge cloud of sentinels hovering about fifty meters away from us. They all seemed to be clawing at scratching at each other, occasionally; some fell to the tunnel's floor. Some even retreated. These were soon chased down and ripped to shreds however.  
  
"What the fuck?" I murmured through the awe and surprise.  
  
The sentinel increased its pace somewhat and carried me in the opposite direction to the battle zone. I was somewhat relieved to see more sentinels entering the Logos, since I was too battered and confused to use rational thought, I told myself that they were going to pick up Sparks and Niobe, (assuming that they hadn't done so already,) and deliver them safely to some magical place with painkillers and daffodils. Or failing that, Zion. I didn't really believe this, it was just a hopeful daydream.  
  
To be continued  
  
Something of a short one I know, the next one will be longer, trust me.  
  
Right, now to the replying:  
  
Angel-of-Lightness/Naz/fwllbart person/ (The same only with the correct spelling) person: I considered telling the sentinels what you said in your last review, and then it occurred to me that I couldn't. Anyway, thanks for reviewing this and 'To War'. I should probably think up a less cheesy title for that fic.   
  
Agent Josie: I'm guessing that by this time you have recovered and all is right with your digestive system. If it isn't then get well soon. If it is then, um, hooray! In either case, thanks for reviewing.  
  
Tai Wilson: That seems about right, cliffhanger wise. Saying that I'll probably wind up using hundreds of the things and alienating all fans. Oh well, thanks for reviewing. Glad you enjoyed Alabama. 


	21. The equation balancing itself

Thanks again to all reviewers; replies are at the end of the chapter.  
  
Chapter 21: The equation trying to balance itself  
  
Waking up in a construct is rarely fun.  
  
My eyes, which were, at the time, used to the black surroundings that my closed eyelids had forced upon them. When I opened my eye and saw the impossibly bright light coming from every direction, it was a minor miracle that my retinas didn't burn out.   
  
I kept my eyes closed for a long while after that. Every few minutes I would open them fractionally to try and get used to the light, only to be close them again soon after with a fresh stinging sensation within them.  
  
"How you managed to survive continues to elude me."  
  
The voice was male; it seemed to be tinged with contempt and at the same time, somehow, pity. I managed to overcome my instinct to look at the newcomer and instead turned my head to face where the voice had come from with my eyelid held firmly closed.  
  
I heard a sigh; this was followed by a strange fizzing sound. Almost like shingle being tipped onto a cardboard floor. When I opened my eyes again, I found that the room was much darker.  
  
There wasn't much to look at. I could only make out a faint outline of the other guy's head. There was a table, two seats, one of which was occupied by me. There was also a window slightly overhead which showed a crude silhouette of what looked like a palm tree.  
  
"Better?" Asked the voice.  
  
It was about then when the confussion, fear and the faint recollection of what happened struck. I remembered being carried off by a sentinel, I remembered passing out. I also remembered the sentinels ripping themselves to pieces. Now I was in a construct. My theories as to what was to come were not overly pleasant.  
  
"Much," I responded, trying to make out more of the person who took the second seat on the far side of the table but to no avail. "Where are the others?"  
  
"The survivors are being seen to. They were in much worse shape then you. Two people onboard the Hammer known as Mauser and AC were killed. I'm sorry"  
  
"No." A faint numbness filled me, the closer death is to me, the more disturbed I tend to get. Knowing that two colleagues were dead was harder to accept then it should have been.  
  
The lighting increased slightly, revealing four walls, a faint grey ceiling, and parts of the person's face. I shot to my feet, knocking my chair aside in the process. It was him, the program that had rammed his hand into my gut five months ago and turned me into one of him. (The machines had given a report of what had happened during that month to all major news networks. The story played for weeks.)  
  
Anyway, I recognised the face. It was everywhere in the Matrix, paranoid nuts frequently charged through the streets screaming 'He is still among us!' He was the Demon's role model; and one strange band had even used his face for an album cover. As you have undoubtedly guessed, I was talking with Smith.  
  
Rational thought fought its way through the fear, more confussion came with it. This guy was meant to be evil, and he was telling me that the wounded were being seen to, and offering condolences for the deceased. The situation was making less and less sense by the minute.  
  
Smith simply stared at me with a blank face. After about two minutes of silence, I decided I had no other option but to pick my chair up off of the floor and sit down. The lighting improved somewhat as I did so.  
  
"I imagine you have questions." He said.  
  
******************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************  
  
Manticore threw the photograph down on the table and we closed in around it to see the person within it.  
  
The creature looked like your bog standard homeless person. His hair and teeth were dishevelled. His clothing had more holes in it then a guy who fell on the sharp end of a pitchfork. An almost involuntary stab of pity found its way into my head.  
  
"He's called the Train-man." Said Manticore, who had apparently decided that we'd stared at the photo for long enough. "We need him dead."  
  
I looked up and stared at Manticore for a few moments. I knew the guy well enough to know that he didn't make a habit of killing the homeless. Thus suggesting that this was no mere homeless guy.   
  
"Why?" Dragon asked after a few moments of silence.  
  
"He's the one that's been uploading demons and exiles into sentinels."  
  
The pity was soon replaced with anger. For all the bitterness I felt about being forbidden access to Zion, I still didn't want to see everyone there get torn to pieces by squid shaped killing machines. Killing the guy who was making this possible was beginning to sound appealing.  
  
"Isn't he just another lackey of the Merovingian?" Asked Hydra who was still staring at the photograph.  
  
"He is," came Manticore's reply, "according to the Oracle, the Merovingian and all his servitors are working to help Neo."  
  
"Who's the Merovingian?" I asked, once more feeling a lot like the idiotic new guy among the group.  
  
"He is a program that has built a metaphorical empire for himself here in the Matrix," the tone of Manticore's voice suggested that he had given this speech before. "He knows virtually every significant going on throughout the world; he has operatives that carry out his bidding in every corner of the world. He is considered by many to be the most dangerous being within the Matrix. Thousands of people are dead because of him. The war between humanity and the machines was to him a good source of entertainm..."  
  
"Basically," interrupted Hawk, "He's an arsehole who deserves to be sliced in half."  
  
"And we need him dead too." Added Manticore.   
  
"Why would he be helping to destroy Zion? That's pretty ambitious, even for him."  
  
"The humans of Zion have got in his way once too often, apparently. Thanks to them, he lost the Key maker, several minions, and was humiliated at his nightclub by the human known as Trinity."  
  
"Who?" I said through my teeth. No one seemed to hear me, or if they did no one seemed to care.  
  
"Basically," continued Manticore, "he wants to make sure that nothing like that happens again, ever."  
  
"And we get to disappoint him I assume." I said. They heard me that time, and a series of grins broke out of the assembled faces.  
  
To be continued.  
  
Right, now for replies.  
  
Naz: Once again I think that I've replied to your review in a reply in ARGH! Where are my limbs?! So I'll just ask 'how go things?' As I haven't done that in a while. Also, I ate sommerfield's cumberland rings today and i felt queasy soon afterwards, that might have been a mix of the rings and the pineapple juice now that i think about it. Anyway, Thanks for reviewing.  
  
Agent Josie: And I call me pedantic. Very well, your seemingly spontaneous drive 'towards' London was unexpected. Anyway, thanks for reviewing. Also, can you think of a use for about 50 ring pulls?   
  
Tai Wilson: Its spelt 'vacation' according to the Microsoft spell checker. Oh well, Spring break, or the Easter holiday as we British persons call it draws ever nearer sire, patience, and thanks for reviewing.  
  
Dark Puck: Thanks, it's always nice to see new reviewers. Twitch not sire, for Locke's character shall not be bashed out of shape. I'm trying to keep everyone in character as much as possible. 


	22. A Solution

Thanks once more to all reviewers; replies are, rather unsurprisingly, at the end of the chapter.  
  
Chapter 22: A solution  
  
The last time I got blood on my hands was about a year ago, I was cutting up vegetables and watching the television at the same time and inadvertently sliced a line across all four fingers of my left hand. After suppressing a yelp and swearing a few times, I hurriedly made my way to the medicine cabinet and fiddled about with bandages and TCP for a while.  
  
After this was done and I was reasonably certain that the remaining blood was going to stay within me, I noticed that my hands were drenched in the stuff. On my right hand there was less, and it had already started to dry, thereby making moving the fingers somewhat difficult.  
  
The left one looked a lot like I'd dipped a cupped hand into a punch bowl. The blood lingered in a small puddle in the centre. Some was escaping the hand and falling to the floor, on top of the stinging however, I couldn't care less.  
  
The next time I saw blood on my hands, the blood wasn't mine, neither were the hands. Before I'd been able to mouth my first question. Smith had decided to show me what had happened after my un-plugging. What I saw was a short film about the life of my residual self image after it had been separated from the rest of me.  
  
I stared at the screen with a mixture of confussion and disgust, my mouth was hanging open but I didn't really care.  
  
Manticore had told me that the body would die after it was separated from the consciousness; he even gave me a small speech about 'The body not being able to live without the mind.' That's why I assumed that they had just set out to kill me. Then there was this, my 'drunken' self image.   
  
My educated guess as to what had happened was that where I was unplugged, inadvertently in all probability, 'Wanderer' had been separated from me and became a 14 caret program. For all intents and purposes however, he should still have been 'me.'  
  
What I was seeing on the screen that Smith seemed to summon from nowhere, was myself, (more or less,) hacking everyone around him to segments. We'd, i mean I'd, never killed anyone. The idea of doing so always disturbed us, me sorry; anyway, this guy was slicing people to shreds with a grin on his face. Granted, the majority of them appeared to be demons, but it was not a fun thing to watch.   
  
In the end I vomited over the floor.  
  
"Weak creatures." Smith said with no attempt to hide the loathing in his voice. I ignored him. I was actually more worried about how my body, which was presumably lying down, facing upwards, was responding to my retching. A hand instinctively made its way to my throat, what good it would do was anyone's guess, but I felt slightly better with it there.  
  
"One of the medical units will clear away the filth, don't worry."  
  
I wiped the last traces of partially digested food away from my mouth and wiped it on my trousers; I guessed that my real trousers wouldn't be affected and that it didn't really matter. All the while, Smith waited patiently.  
  
"Why did you show me that?" I asked, trying to banish the memory of the film.  
  
"In case you run into him," the tone of voice sounded as if I'd just asked him what three plus one was.  
  
"And why would I run into him?"  
  
"This may be difficult for you to understand, stay with me," he cleared his throat, "my life is the result of the existence of the one you call Neo. He, as you prob…"  
  
"Who?" I asked in a slightly higher voice then I would have liked. The look Smith gave me was one of genuine surprise.  
  
"I was un-plugged after the end of the war." I said, feeling slightly less queasy.  
  
"Still," the surprise had also found its way into his voice, "I would have expected you humans to have swarmed around each other chortling 'Mr. Ander…' I mean 'Neo' to yourselves."  
  
"We haven't had much time for chortling, what with the almost constant sentinel attacks and everything."  
  
"As I was saying," he seemed to be getting irritated, "When I was defeated by the one known as 'Neo', all the humans within the Matrix were restored to their ordinary, nauseating selves. The one known as Neo had his conciseness separated from his physical form in much the same way as you did when I was destroyed. We were spread throughout the Matrix; pieces of us were overwritten and imprinted onto each other. Neo now possesses the same will to end all life that was once mine. I have been given the desire to save life that was once his."  
  
An abrupt silence fell upon the room. It was impossible for me to tell whether or not he was telling the truth, and if he was whether or not he was glad that he had been changed or not.  
  
"So now what?" I hissed after a few moments. I was becoming impatient to say the least. In the space of what was probably a day, I'd been chased by metallic demonic squids, almost killed twice, learned that there was a second me that was a mass murdering psychopath, all to top it all off, the room was beginning to smell of vomit.  
  
Smith seemed unphased.  
  
"In order for the equation to remain balanced, and the system to remain stable, both myself and Mr. Anderson must remain alive, or dead."  
  
"So you're saying…"  
  
"We both have to die."  
  
How do you respond to that?  
  
To be continued.  
  
Now for replying:  
  
Angel-of-lightness: I see, just to be on the safe side, I shall never eat cake whilst outside or whilst a window is open, even if its not windy, lest something be tempted to conspire to insert cake and perhaps small twigs in my eyes, teeth or ears. Planned paranoia is the key to success. Anyway, thanks for reviewing.  
  
Agent Josie: Revolution shall remain in my claws despite whatever you may do to try and steal it. I hope one of your own falls to your fingers soon squire. Thanks for reviewing.  
  
Tai Wilson: Once again I shall say enjoy your holiday or vacation or whatever you wish to call it squire. Just don't fall in any ditches. Thanks for reviewing.  
  
Dark Puck: Sorry, anyway, assuming all goes well, you shall have no need to send angry reviews. With regards to your last review, thanks. 


	23. A shiny hell

Thanks once more to reviewing persons. Replies are where they usually are.  
  
Chapter 23: A Shiny Hell  
  
It was remarkably clean for a subway.   
  
Usually when I'm in one of these things, the floors are strewn with urine, blood, a smattering of turds and the filth of many a person that was too lazy to find a bin.  
  
Curiously however, the most I could find in this station was the occasional cigarette remnants on the platform, and an empty packet of crisps that lay peacefully below a PowerAde™ advert.   
  
We walked along the platform, catching the occasional glare from nearby persons. Since the Matrix had become common knowledge, black, leather attire had become a trend almost overnight. People who wore such garments usually received stares from onlookers who usually spend about three seconds trying to decide if you're a fashion following fellow or an un-plugged human. After these three seconds they usually realise that they have better things to think about.  
  
Anyway, it didn't take long for the train to arrive. It emerged from the darkness of the tunnel with a high pitched hiss that was painful to hear.  
  
"Ready?" Manticore asked.  
  
Again, I couldn't help but feel an involuntary stab of pity. I knew that the trainman was responsible for uploading demons and who knows what into machines that then descended upon Zion. He was undoubtedly responsible for numerous deaths there, and I kept telling myself that he deserved what was coming to him. Still, it was hard not to think of him as an unfortunate homeless guy who we were going to shoot to pieces.  
  
I locked the guilt down as the train rolled to a stop. Conveniently, one of the doors found itself in front of where we were standing; I inhaled before climbing onto the train after the others.  
  
The train was also surprisingly clean, and surprisingly empty. I remember grinning at the fact that my luck with public transportation had improved somewhat in recent months, granted I'd only used it twice but still.  
  
Anyway, we made our way down the various carriages, seeing no one but the occasional wearisome looking passenger. It was something of a bumpy ride, very few meters there would be a sudden jolt which would come annoyingly close to sending one of us to the floor.  
  
Despite this however, we were able to advance across the pestiferous corridor of carriages at a reasonably quick pace.  
  
Three carriages from the end, we found him.  
  
The train man's photo was surprisingly accurate. The figure before us was identical to the image in the photo, from the long, tattered grey hair to the teeth which suggested a diet of glass.  
  
He didn't notice us at first; he simply looked at the floor with a look of detached depression on his face. The guilt struck again but was quickly subdued. I made a mental note to look into getting my guilt removed when we got back to the Destiny.  
  
When he did notice us, he sprung to life majestically. Without so much as a 'hello', he shot to his feet, drew a gun and started firing at us.   
  
The edge of one bullet grazed Hydra's arm, another buried itself in Dragon's shoulder. Both of them hissed in pain and moved to either end of the carriage, thereby allowing myself, Manticore and Hawk to respond to his friendly greeting with a few gunshots of our own.  
  
He was quicker then I expected. By the time we fired, he was already closing the door to the cabin. Hawk and Manticore took off after him. I was almost sent to the floor by a panicky passenger. As he took off in the opposite direction, I examined the bleeding figures of Hydra and Dragon.  
  
"Are you alright?" I asked hastily whilst moving towards Dragon, who appeared to be the most injured.  
  
"You fucking idiot," I heard Dragon whisper through his teeth, "we don't damage as easily as humans, haven't…"   
  
Deciding that he'd live, I clapped Dragon on his damaged shoulder and grinned in devious satisfaction as he yelped in pain, (I don't take kindly to insults,) and took off down the corridor after Manticore and Hawk.   
  
I had to fight my way through more panicky, screaming passengers. The narrow space between the seats didn't allow me to get out of their way easily. This lead to people charging at me as if I wasn't there, getting pushed aside, and one woman who swung her handbag in my face. I considered pointing my gun at her and seeing what kind of reaction it got, but decided against the idea.  
  
In the distance, I could hear more gunshots. This resulted in my pace increasing. Behind me, I noticed that Hydra and Dragon had healed sufficiently to join the chase.  
  
I at last came to the final cabin; it was devoid of any annoying passengers, which was helpful. In the distance, I noticed that the train man was using one of the seats for cover. He seemed to be more interested with filling the air with bullets then with actually hitting anything.   
  
I dived behind a chair of my own before he had time to send any bullets my way. To my left, I noticed Hawk who seemed to be reloading her weapon with reassuring calm. Manticore was hidden behind a seat in front of me.  
  
I lifted myself over the seat and fired. The target hastily ducked and , the bullets I tried to fire through the seat bounced off harmlessly, thereby confirming my nagging belief that this was no ordinary train.   
  
As I stopped firing, (in the hopes of coaxing him out and putting a bullet in his forehead,) I noticed that the train had arrived at its new destination. It was another station, also disturbingly clean, with hundreds of passengers presumably waiting to board the fast moving battle zone. All of them were Demons.  
  
The train man stood up with an equally disturbing grin on his face. All of us, Dragon and Hydra included unleashed a shower of bullets on the guy, all of which seemed to vanish upon contact.   
  
"Down here, I make the rules." The voice was a fusion of triumph, smugness and cigarette usage, "Down here, I'm God."  
  
To be continued  
  
Right, now for replying:  
  
Agent Josie/guests: Your mind makes it real, which is what I learned today after I had curry for breakfast. Anyway, thanks for reviewing.  
  
Tai Wilson: So do I, which is annoying because it can lead to plot holes, anyway, thanks for reviewing.  
  
Yar Kramer: I think I fixed the paragraph problem for the last chapter. Thanks for reviewing, it's nice to see reviewers at this late stage. 


	24. Too great a number

Thanks once again to all reviewers, replies are at the end of the chapter.  
  
Chapter 23: Too great a number  
  
I could see the faces through the window, smirking bloodthirsty faces of animals that saw a potential mean through the windows of the train. Through the shock, I couldn't help but grin at the thought of a few of them impaled on the edge of one of my swords.  
  
The doors opened with a hiss.  
  
The beasts charged forward, I can't really say I was surprised when they all got stuck in the doors, each of the brainless morons wanted to be the first to get a kill under their belt. We wasted no time in taking advantage of this.  
  
Manticore drew first blood. He buried a bullet deep into a demon's skull. The corpse fell backwards and was tossed aside graciously by its former comrades.  
  
I didn't really notice any other kills by 'ascended ones', I was too busy earning a few of my own. I fired my remaining bullets in the direction of the closest door before charging at it.  
  
I pushed my right arm's sword into the chest of a nearby demon before sending another one, and a fair few that were behind him, flying backwards with a kick. That's one of the nice things about the Matrix; physics are largely irrelevant.  
  
In the corner of my eye, I noticed that the Train man seemed happy enough to stand back and watch. I guessed that this was a good thing.  
  
One of the Demons charged at me, I remember thinking whether or not they recognised us. They ma very well have done considering the damage we'd done to them. I know this is one of the most stupid things you could do in a combat situation, but in my defence, the thought was almost involuntary.  
  
As I was saying however, one of the Demons charged at me with a roar that was more humorous then frightening. Especially after I sliced him in two. Dramatics are all well and good as long as you can avoid looking like a twat whilst using them.   
  
Several heads turned to face the Train man. I turned my own head just in time to see his fist come crashing into it.  
  
As I said, I edited myself so as to make myself more resilient to damage. Despite this however, I still found myself flying down the carriage and through two closed doors into the carriage behind me. If I'd been my old self, my head probably would have been torn off.  
  
Pain was screaming for attention in my back, face and arms. It was all I could do for a few moments to suppress a scream of my own. Tilting my head slightly, I noticed that more Demons had managed to force their way into the train, Dragon and Hydra had fallen back to the carriage that I had been thrown into; Manticore and Hawk were cut off by Demons. They seemed to be holding their own however.  
  
I clawed my way, slowly, back to my feet. As I did so, I narrowly avoided being knocked over by two Demons that had been knocked through the hole that I had created. I tried to get at the main bulk of Demons; hoping to get close enough to decapitate a few before they knew what happened, and hopefully divert attention away from Hawk and Manticore. Annoyingly, some pestiferous Demon got in my way every two meters, cutting them down was not as easy as it should have been, due to my bruised carcass.  
  
I wasn't quick enough to dodge the third flying Demon, the beast smashed into me and I was returned to the floor.  
  
He was quicker then I expected. The beast quickly lifted himself off of me and landed a punch into my face; I barely felt it. Grabbing his head in my hands, I twisted.  
  
The snap was quieter then I expected. Background noise I guess. Anyway, I pushed the corpse away and tried once again to make it to the cloud of Demons. I noticed that Dragon and Hydra seemed to be holding their own against pesky Demons that had separated from the main group. I also noticed that the majority of the enemy appeared to be waiting on the platform, shouting encouragement to their colleagues.   
  
Another Demon charged at me, he had what looked like a pizza cutter in one hand, a questionable choice of weapon but I guessed it would work well enough on throats.  
  
I dodged two swings before re-drawing one of my swords and burying it into her neck. She spluttered and wheezed for a few moments before falling to the floor.  
  
I froze suddenly as I saw Manticore smash through the wall next to the door. Presumably, he'd been hit by the Train man in much the same way as I had. In his flight, he tore a seat from the floor and landed about five meters into the carriage. I couldn't immediately tell whether or not he was still breathing.  
  
Three Demons flew with him, if nothing else; all three of them appeared to be dead.  
  
I increased my pace, but found myself confronting a far greater number of Demons then before.  
  
I swung my left arm's sword with as much strength as I had left. It severed the head of one demon, sliced through the ribs of another, and was stopped effortlessly by the Train man.  
  
The decrepit looking program grinned at me. Deciding that I didn't want another trip through a closed metal door, I rammed a fist into his teeth. I would have used a sword if I had enough room; anyway, the train man flinched slightly, but appeared none the worse for wear.  
  
"Weren't you listening?" The same triumph filled voice, "down here, I'm God."   
  
"No, I wasn't listening." Given more time, I'm reasonably certain that I could have dreamed up something better then that to say.  
  
Alas I had no time, the trainman's fist smashed into the side of my face, my head snapped round, I instantly felt dazed, if it wasn't for the grip he had on my sword I probably would have buggered over.  
  
His fist smashed squarely into the centre of my face, and I blacked out.  
  
To be continued.  
  
And now for replies:  
  
Tai Wilson: Good fortunes with your writing ways. I usually find a blow to the head helps with writer's block, but that's not for everyone. Thanks for reviewing.  
  
Agent Josie: This is the time of year that is the most easy to forget, usually. What relevance that has to anything I have no idea but in any case, thanks for reviewing. The word 'very' will come back to you if you don't get killed. 


	25. Infamy, wonderful

And all your souls shall be mine,  
  
Um, I mean, thanks to all reviewers.  
  
Chapter 25: Infamy, wonderful  
  
"Bullshit."  
  
Through Niobe's forced clam, I could hear the hatred, loathing and disbelief. The others it seemed were having a harder time accepting Smith's story then I did. It was then I learned that Hero worship is more troublesome then it appears.  
  
The survivors had all been patched up and had joined us in the construct. I'd had to wait almost a day for them to arrive; there were some pretty serious injuries on the survivors, or so I'd been told, Ghost had had his left arm torn off; another person whose name I forget had more holes in him then a guy on the receiving end of a firing squad.  
  
You wouldn't know it from the assembled faces; residual self image apparently didn't take personal injury into account. The people around me all looked healthy and ready to deliver a skull crushing kick at any moment.  
  
"If you can bring yourselves to look past your instinctive denial then you'll realise that I'm telling the truth. If it were me who was uploading people into sentinels then you wouldn't be here would you?"  
  
There was a silence, all of us had been convinced of what Smith had told us with the exceptions of Niobe, Ghost and some woman called Restoration, Morpheus' short speech about what the Oracle had said had helped achieve this, but there's always one, or in this case, three.  
  
"Neo sacrificed himself to save Zion," this was Ghost speaking; "there's nothing that could make him want to destroy it."  
  
Smith sighed with exasperation that I almost shared. He'd already explained the copying and pasting of parts or whatever the hell it was three times.  
  
"I've already explained this; do I need to draw cue cards with brightly coloured smiling stick figures to make you see sense? Mr. Anderson's mind was separated from his body the same as it did when he destroyed the five sentinels remember? This happened as I was destroyed, this caused a," he paused to search for the right words, "fusion of our souls if you will. We've both been re-written."  
  
There was another silence; the information seemed to cause the same feelings of disbelief and shock, in all of us, that it had the last two times.  
  
"Bullshit, that's impossible." This one came from Restoration. I almost ended up groaning with irritation when a repeat of the last three hour seemed to be approaching. I had the feeling that it was going to be a long day.  
  
***********************************************************  
  
I woke up on the floor of an empty restaurant.  
  
Well, it wasn't completely empty. There were no customers, no waiters or anything like that; there was security however, in the form of four people pointing guns at my head. I also noticed two other people sitting at a needlessly large table. One was the Merovingian, I recognised him from a photograph that Hydra had shown me. The other one, a bored looking female, I didn't recognise.  
  
"Ah, the dreamer awakes."  
  
The other ascended ones were nowhere to be seen. I slowly pulled my weary self off of the floor and tried to avoid getting a gun barrel in my eye as I di so.  
  
"This way," a nauseatingly forceful voice said.  
  
We walked to the table and I was pushed into a seat. I considered drawing my swords and trying my luck but I decided against it. I may have upgraded myself so that my skin was as durable as a concrete wall, but shooting at a concrete wall still results in holes, besides, this could also spell trouble for the others.  
  
"So," the Merovingian had a strong French accent and a voice that was filled with pretension, "I can only surmise from your presence that the Ascended fools have finally found themselves another member."  
  
I shrugged in reply, hoping to convey an aura of calm that I didn't feel.  
  
"Come now, surely you can be more sociable then this, if I wanted you dead then you would not be here would you?"  
  
"Alright," I clawed through my mind for an appropriate conversation starting question, "Have you been constipated recently?"  
  
He made no attempt to hide his irritation, not surprising really. The anonymous woman seemed to be amused.  
  
"No."  
  
"Me neither, I haven't crapped in a while either, oh how I miss it."  
  
"Let me get to the point," all traces of humour died abruptly with this new sentence, "your pathetic group of do-gooders is still alive because I want something. Give it to me, and you will be free to continue with your pitiful superhero role playing game."  
  
"Sorry, I'm not one for anal penetration." (In sophisticated company it helps to employ a sophisticated vocabulary, or so I've been told.) My attempt was met with another irritated glare however.  
  
"Very witty, let me make one thing clear, it would be very easy for me to have your friends killed, slowly, so I'd advise you'd watch what you say around me."  
  
Anger found its way into the back of my neck. I wanted very much to slice everyone in this room and reduce this building to a smattering of rubble on the floor. Common sense kept me from trying however.  
  
"Alright, what do you want?"  
  
"That's better; do you see how much easier everything is when you use a little politeness in your speech? Now to business, as I said, there is something I want. Three heads." He paused, probably so as to look for a shocked reaction on my face, there wasn't one.  
  
"Alright, tell these guys to lower their weapons and you can have thee of theirs."  
  
This, thankfully, seemed to amuse him rather then irritate him.  
  
"The heads I want belong to Seraph, the Fortune teller…"  
  
"Who?" (I was really growing to hate this question.)  
  
"The Oracle," I nodded in recognition, trying to suppress the increasing flow of anger, "and Morpheus."  
  
My response to this third name was a little strange. My head flicked upwards to stare at the Merovingian, my fists clenched, and my mind sprang back and forth between bloodlust and undirected anger. It took me about eight minutes to regain the self control to form a coherent sentence. The Merovingian seemed to recognise what was on my face.  
  
"Now this is interesting. Tell me, what has Morpheus done to cause this?"  
  
I ignored him; I was too busy trying to resist the urge to smash his face to pulp. The thought of his death seemed like the only thing that would ever make me feel better.  
  
"So let me get this straight," I wasn't about to taint my memory of Seamus by talking about him with this arsehole, "upon receiving the severed heads of the Oracle, Seraph and Morpheus," my voice almost became a growl as I said the third name, "you'll let us walk out of here and continue our hindrance of your plans for genocide, correct?"  
  
"Oh please, the damage you've done has had the same affect on the plan as Persephone here oversleeping would." He gestured at the woman on his left, "it's amusing more then anything else."  
  
I really wanted to kill him.  
  
"Why me? I've only been at this for a few months."  
  
"I considered using one of the others, but experience has taught me that the image of a heroic warrior of good is too strong in them, mainly because they've done little short of nothing for centuries."  
  
"Sounds familiar." This came from the woman on the right.  
  
"As I was saying, I'm hoping that you are more willing to see good sense. Now, do we have a deal?"  
  
To be continued  
  
Right, now for replies:  
  
Angel-of-lightness: What occurred to me was, (another long dramatic pause) well, I'll leave you to guess. Those pictures you sent me were, um, odd. Yeah. Anyway, thanks for reviewing.  
  
Agent Josie: There are cardboard cut outs of Morpheus and Trinity in the forum library in Norwich that have no heads. Whoever has done this shall be struck down with a pitchfork. Anyway, thanks for reviewing.  
  
Tai Wilson: Enjoy Jacksonville. I had to wander around universities when my sister was trying to decide which one to go to, to quote from Tank; it was 'Major boring shit'. I hope you have a better time. Anyway, thanks for reviewing. 


	26. Push too hard and they snap

Thankings to all reviewing persons, replies are where they usually are.  
  
Chapter 26: Push too hard and they snap  
  
I sat in silence for a few moments as I 'considered' the Merovingian's offer. In reality, the chances of him actually letting us walk out of the door seemed slim. It was more likely that he'd simply kill us all when I delivered the heads, or perhaps, he'd keep them alive assuming he had more tasks for me.  
  
I had no strong desire to kill the Oracle, I also knew that she would be needed if humanity was to be saved and this 'Neo' guy was to be restored to his benevolent self. I also had no delusions that I could defeat Seraph; I'd seen him fight when the programs came through the wall of the Oracle's apartment, I had about as much chance of severing his head as I did of shitting out of my hands.   
  
When all around you seems hopeless, the mind can do some pretty strange things.  
  
I shot to my feet and at the same time extended both swords. The guards were quicker then I expected, but they presumably believed that I was going to make a last ditch lunge for the Merovingian; instead, I jumped up and sprang backwards off the end of the table, this resulted in their guns facing the wrong way as I lowered my swords and sliced the front two's heads in two.  
  
As I landed, the other two quickly pointed their guns at my head, after a quick swipe of my left hand sword, the guns, and the hands holding them, fell to the floor. The resulting screams of pain from the programs were abruptly halted as I buried my swords into their chests. They fell to the floor in almost perfect symmetry.   
  
I wasted about three seconds feeling surprised at my unexpected success, I half expected to wind up as a graceless, bullet riddled heap on the elaborate marble floor.   
  
After I'd sufficiently recovered, I prised one of the guns from the surprisingly tenacious grip of the severed hand and pointed it towards the Merovingian who was, at the time, making his way quietly towards what looked like an escape route intended for such situations as this one. He paused abruptly and shot me a facial expression that was as much anger as it was fear. The woman was inhaling more quickly now with obvious panic, but at the same time, somehow, she looked as if she was ready to burst out laughing. This didn't do much to improve my tense state of mind.  
  
"Sit down." He did so, and I tried to suppress the feelings of sudden blood lust and power that were coursing through me.  
  
"Remember," the voice was disturbingly calm, "your friends are still downstairs."  
  
"Yes, we'll have to do something about that won't we?" My voice sounded ridiculous in my own ears. I never felt right making threats, I always preferred slicing people, "have them brought here, intact, conscious and armed, now."  
  
The volume of the final word was louder then I had intended; it did make him flinch however.  
  
"By the way, if one person walks through that door," I gestured behind me with one sword," I'll put three bullets in your face."  
  
The Merovingian slowly pulled a suave looking mobile phone from one of his pockets, pressed a few keys and started muttering into the device in French.  
  
I sighed and shot him in the arm.  
  
The phone fell to the table and he screamed in pain and what I believe was fury. This didn't seem like the kind of person who was used to getting shot.  
  
"English please." I said in a soft tone of voice, "I'd like to know what you're saying."  
  
He groaned and looked up at me.  
  
"Quickly," I said, my voice lowered somewhat, "before they send a rubber coated security team through the door."  
  
He moved his working arm to the phone and once again began to speak into it.  
  
"Razor," his speech was frequently interrupted by hisses of pain and heavy breathing, "No, I said. No, don't worry about it, everything's fine. This will all be sorted out soon. Look, get the Ascended foo", he paused and cast a worried glance to me, "the ascended ones their weapons and send them up here. No security, no, listen to me. You stupid fuckwit, I said no security. I told you, this will all. Be sorted out soon."  
  
In the corner of my eye, I noticed that Persephone or whatever she's called was watching on with what was now calm amusement. She seemed to be overjoyed at the Merovingian's pain and humiliation. This was creepy.  
  
It took almost ten minutes for the others to arrive, when they did I snapped my head around to make sure that this wasn't a team of goons come to shoot me. At first they stood in the doorway, staring at me with what I can only assume was surprise; they were too far away for me to determine their facial expressions.  
  
"Come on, whilst we're young." I tried for an amused calm but I was too tinged with relief, which consequently slipped into my voice. I have expected to see bloodied, beaten shells. Instead they all looked healthy and ready to rip the Merovingian apart with their bare hands.  
  
"Now," I said, turning back to the Merovingian, my voice sounded even more ridiculous now that the others were here, "How would you suggest we go about…"  
  
"You'll never make it out of here alive." The voice was a fusion of anger, pain and pride. "Even if you kill me, the others will cut you to pieces."   
  
"Then it seems I have nothing to loose."  
  
I extended my arm and pointed the gun at his face.  
  
"Wait!" A surge of sick satisfaction went through me as I sensed the fear in his voice.  
  
"I wasn't going to ask you how we leave; we can just smash in that window and jump to the nearby roof. I was going to ask how we go about finding Neo."  
  
"I can take you to him." He knew I was going to kill him; his only chance to survive was to make himself useful to us.  
  
"We don't need him," this was Manticore talking, the others had all fanned out and were covering possible entrance points, "the Oracle will direct to Neo when its time, if we have to go after him that is."  
  
"Thanks Manticore, now I look like an idiot."  
  
We both sniggered at that. The Merovingian apparently decided that he had nothing to loose and darted for the door that was a few meters to his right. I quickly took aim and fired three bullets into his back.  
  
The silence that followed was a little unnerving. Everyone looked at the floor's latest corpse with disbelieving eyes, as if the Merovingian being dead was a paradox, after a few minutes, this subsided.  
  
Persephone's grin soon erupted into a maniacal laugh. Like I said, creepy.  
  
Right, now for replies:  
  
Angel-of-lightness: All wrong, I never actually saw the second Harry potter film, and I never think about the Backstreet boys as long as I can avoid it. Anyway, thanks for your reviewings.   
  
Agent Josie: That sounds like one evil crow. Thanks to thee, I've now found a nice thing to say about Martham, there are a fair number of owls and bats, and hardly any pigeons. You do get seagulls though, they usually lurk around Flegg High School which is a shithole anyway, oh well, thanks for reviewing.  
  
Tai Wilson: Damn scholarships, envy inspiring things. Oh well, like I said yesterday, enjoy Jacksonville. By the way, I'm ahead of you hour wise, I think. Thanks for reviewing. 


	27. Cool air

Thanks to all reviewing persons once again, three guesses where the replies are.  
  
By the way, thanks to a sodding great plot-hole, I've re-written the first part of chapter 25.  
  
Chapter 27: Cool air  
  
Whilst Morpheus, Smith and the others were still trying to convince Niobe, Ghost and the other one that Neo was now evil, I decided to start traipsing about the construct that the machines had built for us. It was quite nice, a huge, luxurious resort overlooking a surprisingly symmetrical beech.  
  
No one seemed to care about my leaving, two other people had already left and the smell from my scented trousers had turned more then a few faces grey. I needed some time to myself as well. Lots of shit to sift through.  
  
As you probably guessed, my thoughts switched to the other me. Images of the short film Smith had shown me eventually sent another stream of bile rushing up my throat and onto an unfortunately placed pot plant.  
  
I'd always lived happily in the knowledge that the only lives I would end would be those of pestiferous insects and the occasional spider. (Apparently, the average human swallows about 6 spiders in their sleep during the course of their life), anyway, that's not important.  
  
Now my life seemed to be nothing except disbelief and continuous vomiting. 'Wanderer', or 'Eric', or whatever he'd chosen to call himself was, apparently, me. Therefore, I was just as capable of callous murder as he was. That was part of the reason I kept throwing up.  
  
I tried to banish the thoughts under the words, 'one way or the other, he's not me, I'm not a murderer.' I must have repeated that sentence at least fifty times on my way to the beach.  
  
A cool, artificial breeze swept in from the sea and flew gently into my face. I'd spent a lot of my time here whilst I was waiting for the others to arrive. It was peaceful, not unlike the beaches I'd been to in my childhood where force ten gales would send people flying into cliffs and deranged children would throw rocks at you. Alright I'm exaggerating, but still, this was a lot more pleasant then the beaches I' been to in the Matrix.  
  
I spent the next half hour or so staring at a toucan who landed about a meter in front of me. The machine's have some strange ideas about hospitality.  
  
***********************************************************  
  
Persephone continued cackling whilst I received numerous claps on the back and we realised that we still owed the Train man vengeance. Our biggest priority however was leaving with our heads firmly attached to our bodies.  
  
The window I had gestured at earlier covered most of the wall, its size allowed for us to jump quite easily to the next roof, unfortunately, removing the glass proved to be more problematic.  
  
Shooting at it wasn't an option, the glass was bullet-proof, and a shower of sharp, transparent projectiles upon pedestrians was something we wanted to avoid, the sounds of gunshots in the street would also attract unwanted attention from local law enforcement and finally, we didn't know just how many bullets we'd need. Throwing furniture through it brought forth similar problems.  
  
The solution was eventually provided by Dragon, who took several steps towards the wall facing the window, and took aim with his arm mounted rocket launcher. From what I remembered of the thing from one attack of a van full of Demons, this was likely to cause far more damage then gunshots would, in the end however, it occurred to us that we had no choice, and that pedestrians would probably be able to get out of the way given our high altitude.   
  
Before we left, I severed the five heads from the bodies on the floor and fitted them into the ridiculously large pockets that I'd built into my coat. The resulting bulges looked, odd. Also I didn't have time to let the majority of the blood seep out so the pestiferous metallic smell of blood began to linger about me.  
  
Manticore also made a threatening speech to Persephone about; well you really have to hear it for yourself. It went something like:  
  
"All this is yours now; and you have two choices with what to do with it, either you can end the uploading of Demons and Programs into sentinels, or you can continue it and in a week be the next corpse on the floor. And by the way, if one of us so much as bleeds because of you or your minions, I'll rip your head open myself."  
  
I think she was having as hard a time keeping a straight face as I did. She gave us her word that the uploading would end however. Of course we still had the Train man to deal with so we'd find out for ourselves whether or not she was a woman of her word.  
  
With that, Dragon fired into the window, covering us all with assorted building material in the process, and we leaped from the large fiery hole to the roof of JJB sports™. It felt very good to be out of the restaurant. The cold air on my face felt almost cleansing. It also helped chase away the wreaking odour of blood.  
  
Below us, we noticed that a crowd of spectators had already assembled. I don't know if they'd seen us leap to the next building, but in the grand scheme of things, it didn't really matter, all I, and the others I'd guess, wanted to do was get back to the Destiny.  
  
To be continued. (Something of a short one I know, I would say that the next one will be longer but I really don't know.)  
  
Right, now for replies:   
  
Angel-of-lightness: It has nothing to do with seagull craniumed creatures, and you'll still have to guess. Anyway, thanks for reviewing.  
  
Agent Josie: Damn Weasel stealing oik. Anyway I hope your birthday was an enjoyable thing and that you didn't fall in any ditches. (You didn't, did you?)  
  
LiMiYa: Its kind of a shame he wasn't killed in the Movies, I'm not sure how they could fit that around the plot but it would have been fun to watch.  
  
Yar Kramer: It never seems right somehow when main characters get killed in fanfics, or at least it doesn't to me, oh well thanks for reviewing. I would say something else but I can't think of anything. 


	28. Oh shit

Thanks once more to all reviewers, well there's only one for now but that may change, anyway, onwards to chapter 28.  
  
Chapter 28: Oh shit.  
  
The toucan eventually decided that it had better things to do and flew off into the distance. I watched the beast fly for a few moments before returning to my pointless staring at my surroundings.  
  
Behind the tranquillity and peacefulness that the beach seemed to radiate, there was a nagging feeling that the second I left it, the tranquillity would be replaced by fear, death, pain and destruction. From what Smith had told me before the others arrived about what Neo was planning to do, (and what he'd tried to do when he was turning bog standard pedestrians into copies), it seemed threat to humanity, the machines, the toucans, everyone and everything, was far greater then I had even considered.  
  
"Hey," I turned around to see another unknown male, one of the Hammer's crew whose name I didn't know.   
  
"Morpheus wants us all back at the main hall or whatever the fuck it is." The voice was filled with anger, I'm not sure why. My guess was that this person had unpleasant feelings towards Smith; to be honest I didn't really care.  
  
I spent most of the walk back thinking about how I was now taking orders from a man who may have killed my brother. Then I'd get angry for a few seconds and hastily tell myself that it wasn't him, it was some fucking thug with knowledge of explosives who'd suffer a grisly end sooner or later.  
  
I shook of the pestiferous thought as we entered 'whatever the fuck it was'. Everyone's face was displaying obvious misery and slightly less obvious anger. This seemed to support my 'impending doom theory'.  
  
***********************************************************  
  
I'll admit, my knowledge of the Matrix and the outside world was, and still is a little thin, but I did know that Sentinels shouldn't be in the Matrix.  
  
The beasts charged at us shortly before we reached the Destiny. After a few disbelieving stares, everyone flung themselves out of the way of the advancing squid shaped machines. I almost instinctively fired off a few shots, I knew that this was unlikely to do any good but I did it anyway.   
  
Three bullets ricocheted off of the head of one of the four sentinels and fell harmlessly to the ground. I shook off what was a curious mix of despair, disappointment and disbelief as I threw myself out of the way of another sentinel. Not before it threw one of its spiked arms at me.  
  
The claws on the end of the arm cut threw my upper leg like a knife cutting through paper. I couldn't surpress the following scream of pain. Actually, it was all I could do to lay on the floor, cradling my pierced leg whilst the beast raised itself about seven meters above me and stared at me like a predator before its lunch.  
  
Needless to say I was somewhat grateful when a blast from Dragon's rocket launcher destroyed the beast.  
  
The noise was deafening. Putting my hands to my ears made little difference. The sight itself was somewhat impressive however. The sentinel's head was torn open, sending metal fragments into a nearby tree; the arms of the machine fell around me in almost humorous thuds.   
  
The leg had already begun to heal itself, a benefit of digital enhancement. This made little difference however, the only one who stood any chance against the sentinels was Dragon, and the remaining three sentinels all seemed to be focusing on him now.   
  
"Run!" Screamed Manticore.  
  
And run we did, Manticore torched another Sentinel that was perched on a nearby tree before beginning a hasty sprit towards the Destiny. I had to be supported by Hawk and Manticore before my leg had sufficiently healed.  
  
***********************************************************  
  
"…The anomaly remains the same power and abilities that he had before the transformation. He will be more willing to use them now that he is not bound by primitive human feelings of compassion. He will not hesitate to kill each and every one of you, despite what you may believe."  
  
I couldn't be certain but I thought I saw traces of a grin on his face.   
  
"Unfortunately, with the recent termination of the exile known as the Merovingian, who was also Mr. Anderson's strongest ally in his attempt to destroy humanity…"  
  
"Why is he only targeting humans?" Niobe asked.  
  
"It's a bit short sighted isn't it?" this came from the aforementioned angry person, "I mean, without the humans, the Matrix cannot function, right?"  
  
"We believe that Mr. Anderson intends to spread throughout the first city as I planned to do. At which point he will reconfigure the humans so as to remove consciousness, free will and self awareness; in essence, they will be transformed in mindless batteries as opposed to ones with minds."  
  
"Which is as good as killing them all off." Added Morpheus, who for some reason seemed to be staring at me as if I reminded him of someone else. He looked away when I stared back.  
  
"Why humans?" Niobe repeated impatiently.  
  
"We don't know." There was definite irritation in Smith's voice. You didn't have to be in his company for very long to know that he still regarded us as lower life forms, being interrupted by one didn't do much to improve this.  
  
There was silence for a while. I reflected on what he had said and considered asking who the Merovingian was, but decided against the idea. Fairly soon however, another question sprung to mind.  
  
"You said 'unfortunately' when you said that the Merovingian was dead, why?"  
  
"Because with his death, Mr. Anderson…"  
  
"His name is Neo!" This came from Niobe. It was about the fifth time I'd heard something like this since I'd been in the construct, and I couldn't quite keep my eyes from rolling.  
  
"Very well, Neo, has now begun his expansion throughout the Matrix, he already possesses the power to edit what he wishes to a limited extent, and so far, all attempts to contain him have failed."  
  
"So where do we come in?" This came from Ghost.  
  
***********************************************************  
  
We made it, barely.  
  
Hydra was the last to make it through, she did so just as a sentinel was extending one of its arms to presumably rip her spine out.  
  
Fortunately however, the Destiny's external defences apparently work on Sentinels as well, it just took a little longer for the electricity burst to kill them then it did with humanoid programs.  
  
"What the fuck was…"  
  
I was forced to cut myself off so as to inhale loudly and cringe at fresh lingering pain in my leg.  
  
"How did Sentinels get in the Matrix?"  
  
Hydra's question was cut off by a sudden ringing of a telephone. This was odd for two reasons. One, we didn't own a telephone, two, the phone itself was curiously shaped to resemble a sentinel ripping a nondescript human to pieces, it was quite clever really, the sentinel's head was the listening end and, that's not really all that important I guess.  
  
We all stared blankly at the device for several moments, no one really felt up to questioning its presence what with all the other weird and impossible things we'd seen today.   
  
I was closer so I was the one to pick it up, after receiving a permissive nod from Manticore. The voice on the other end was male, and also surprisingly soft.  
  
"This isn't over." It said before hanging up.  
  
To be continued  
  
Right, now for replies.  
  
Naz: Thanks for reviewing. I have no use for crayons, and you have just reminded me of my upcoming 8 hour long graphics exam. I'll have to beat myself senseless with a hammer to banish this image, oh well, how goes your life?  
  
Tai Wilson: If any new ideas come to me, I'll make another chapter. For now however, I have nothing. Its strange, with this fic, ideas come to me just like that (clicks fingers). With the other one, they, uh, don't. Anyway, thanks for reviewing.   
  
LiMiYa: Thanks, it would have been nice if I could get a second me running about for a while so I could get some first hand experience on what it's like before writing this, but I don't see that happening somehow.  
  
Yar Kramer: I'll try to read your fic if I get time. Anyway, you could argue that by setting your fic 150 years in the future, you killed everyone off, except for a few programs maybe, ah i don't know. I guess that doesn't really count. Oh well, thanks for reviewing. 


	29. It isn't over

Thanks once again to all those who took time out of their homicidal ways to read and review the last chapter. I think I'll start with some replies this time.  
  
Angel-of-lightness: Well its spread out over three days, but that's still 1/3 of a day. Anyway, why exactly did you sent questionnaires to thirteen odd people or however many it was? Like i told someone else, i am a nosey bastard and must know such things. Thanks for reviewing by the way.  
  
Agent Josie: Fear not about it, but burn down the shed full of spiders and i shall be forced to deposit thousands of th beastly beasts on your doorstep. Then they'll probably run off in random directions, damn siders and their short attention spans, thanks for reviewing.  
  
Tai Wilson: I think action is just easier to write. That's surprising, i would have thought it would be the other way round. Oh well, thanks for reviewing.  
  
LiMiYa: Crazy is I indeed, thanks for noticing, and thanks for reviewing. I really have to eat something but i can't be bothered. Oh well.   
  
Right, now for the chapter,  
  
Chapter 29: It isn't over  
  
We spent the next five or six hours looking around the Destiny for any nasty surprises that Neo might have left lying around. In the end, we found nothing.  
  
"It doesn't make any sense." Said Dragon when we all met up in the bar, "why just leave a phone? Why not a nuclear warhead or something?"  
  
"Maybe he's just trying to scare us." Hawk said in response. If her theory was correct, there was no sign of fear in her voice.  
  
"Or let us know that he can kill us whenever he wants." This one came from me.   
  
"In any case," Manticore's voice was calm and professional, and sounded like it should come from the body of a high ranking military officer of some description as opposed to that of a nineteen year old. I knew that he was over 400, but it still sounded; odd.  
  
Anyway, as he was saying, "we can't stay here."  
  
"Well where can we go?" Hydra was having a slightly harder time concealing her fear, "The Destiny is one of the safest and most secure places in the entire Matrix, if he can affect things here, imagine what he can do on the outside."  
  
"But he'll have a harder time finding us on the outside." Responded Manticore. "Those sentinels outside were waiting for us, he assumed that we'd come back here. He'll have a harder time attacking us if he doesn't know where we are."  
  
"Be that as it may," Dragon said whilst staring at the void on the ceiling as if sizing it up as a hiding place, "Where can we go?"  
  
There was a moment's silence. We seemed to be well and truly stuck between a rock and a slightly larger rock. If we stayed in the Destiny, Neo could simply insert a nuclear warhead or some fancy killing device into the Destiny at some point in time and finish us that way. If we left, it would just take him slightly longer to kill us. But that was still slightly longer then we'd have otherwise.  
  
"I know a pla…"   
  
Hawk was cut off in mid word by a Godforsaken screech from loudspeakers that had appeared out of nowhere and were now resting on the walls. Three seconds later, they were gone.  
  
"Fuck." Hydra's voice sounded somehow less surprised then her face seemed to suggest she was.  
  
Dragon had explained the meaning of the alarm to me shortly after I ascended. We were under attack.  
  
With that thought, and the sudden rush of fear that accompanied it, I felt a sudden rush from the floor that told me that the Destiny was rapidly moving into the sky.  
  
My first thought was that the Destiny had torn itself from the ground and was flying to safety. Despite the tenseness of the situation, I couldn't help but grin at the faces of people who saw a tree flying past them. Then I remembered what Dragon had told me about external defences.  
  
What had happened was that the Destiny had converted itself from a tree, to a disturbingly large, armed fortress amongst the other trees. Imagine what Minas Morgol would look like if it were made out of wood, that's pretty much how we looked.  
  
The room around me changed from a post modern bar to a small, all black, circular room with five chairs, all illuminated by a faint light from the floor and all facing towards the centre.  
  
I instinctively threw myself into the nearest chair and waited for what Dragon had described.  
  
It didn't take long for the 'neural interface control circuitry, or the series of sharp thin metal spikes, to emerge from the arms of the chair and bury themselves inside my cranium. With a sudden splitting headache that was soon banished, and a surprisingly small amount of blood loss, I looked at the display that had appeared before me and got my first look at what was coming at us.   
  
There were sentinels, hundreds, maybe thousands of the things, all flying towards us in what looked like a huge, blue tendril before separating into smaller tendrils and falling back into a larger one several feet behind where they stared, they were coming towards us, just very slowly. It seemed that they had been programmed for dramatic effect.  
  
Below them were Demons, there were hundreds of them too, all carrying a firearm of some description. Some I could clearly see were armed with flamethrowers and rocket launchers; this didn't help my frame of mind much.  
  
A green grid appeared across my line of vision, as well as numerous lists. I identified these as the weapon damage display, target information and neural link strength. There was also a green crosshair in the centre, and a crude radar in the in the top right corner. We were represented by a singly green dot in the centre; the enemy were smaller red dots which surrounded us. I was beginning to wish the Destiny had flown away.  
  
The sentinels soon stopped pissing about and charged at us. They came at us in four huge lines, each of which contained probably thousands of sentinels apiece.  
  
No one had to wait for the order to fire.  
  
The Destiny's armaments were plentiful to say the least. According to a section of the damage display, I was controlling almost fifty ridiculously huge machine gun turrets; twenty equally huge rocket launcher turrets which I was later to learn were of Hawks' design, and fifty more of the electrical discharge cannons that the Destiny uses when it takes the form of a humble tree.  
  
All these weapons covered a five centimetre radius around the crosshair on my screen, as a large red circle and a small caption informed me, I'm not sure how big it was outside, but I'm guessing it was bigger then five centimetres.  
  
I took aim at the head of one of the lines of sentinels, inhaled sharply, and fired.  
  
To be continued 


	30. One bear, ten wolves

Right, thank you once again to all who have reviewed. I only wish I could remember what you said. Oh well, I'll go online later and find out, replies are, or will be at the end of the chapter.  
  
Chapter 30: One bear, ten wolves  
  
The head of the wave of sentinels seemed to vanish behind my own wave of firepower. It looked ridiculous on the display, having so much ammo all flying towards the same point, more or less, but according to Hydra, the Destiny has an unlimited supply of ammo. I'm not sure how that works, but at the time as you can probably imagine I didn't care much.  
  
The convenient thing about having so much ammo fly in a singular direction is that when you hit something, that something is likely to die.  
  
My weapons fire preceded a huge, continuous explosion that sent small chunks of dead sentinel falling like slow moving shrapnel to the floor.  
  
The wave separated into smaller waves which seemed to veer off and fly back the way they came. I ignored them for now. If I fired at too small a target with my weapons set to target the same area, there was a chance I'd hit civilian targets, assuming of course sentinels weren't already there.  
  
For a moment, I envisioned the beasts, and their Demon allies swarming through the streets, burning, killing, ripping out entrails. The imagery in my head was disturbingly easy to picture.  
  
I shook it off; if this was happening there was nothing I could do.  
  
Whilst the sentinels were regrouping, my attention turned to the ground. Assorted demons were firing blindly in the general vicinity of the Destiny. I almost found myself laughing when two rockets flew gracefully past us and above the forest. Granted they'd soon fall to earth and cause a fire but I didn't really care.  
  
I fired into the areas within my firing line which showed the greatest concentration of Demons, the area below me changed almost instantly from bright, cheerful looking grassland which was reflecting the sunlight in a picturesque fashion, to a smouldering heap of scorched mud and crispy Demon pieces. A grin broke out on my face.  
  
The sentinels weren't coming back.  
  
I cast a glance upwards to examine the still disturbingly large number of mechanical beasts; they seemed to be flying in figures of eight above the trees. They wove flawlessly in and amongst themselves, none of them crashed, not one got in another's way. They just hovered, except for the few that were spinning at a ridiculously high speed.  
  
And then I found out why.  
  
The machines they flung at us looked like fast moving rotating cricket balls. The automatic perimeter defence system obviously had a better idea of what they were because it instantly started blasting them out of the sky. I couldn't tell if the explosion was a result of the new machines of the miniature countermeasure warheads.  
  
I soon found out that it was the former as the first of them found there way through the defence net. The Destiny shook with such force that Dragon almost fell out of his chair, and there was a surprisingly thud to my right, looking round, I noticed that one of the heads that I'd neglected to remove from my coat had fallen from my pocket and was now rolling about the floor.  
  
I switched to only machine guns and tried to take out the pestiferous sentinel snipers. Unfortunately, the others that were hovering kept getting in the way of my fire, allowing the bombers to move to a safer area.  
  
The Demon's fire improved somewhat. Three rockets got through the perimeter defence net and smashed into the Destiny. It was lucky that the 'tree' wasn't made of actual wood or we'd all be dead by now. Anyway, one of the rockets came unnervingly close to where we were sitting.  
  
Manticore was flung from his chair; three pieces of shrapnel embedded themselves in his face. However he seemed to treat them as if they were nothing more then flies that had for whatever reason chosen to land on him.  
  
My attention switched back to my somewhat flickery display. I hadn't expected this much damage from a single hit. In fact I had begun to expect that apart from the occasional shake, we wouldn't suffer any damage at all. It soon occurred to me that the Destiny, like the Matrix, was technology as opposed to magic. It still followed a few basic rules, even if it flaunted hundreds of them. In short, we weren't invincible. Shit.  
  
The sentinels unleashed another wave of bombs. They seemed to have abandoned the idea of a frontal assault. I managed to take out one with a machine gun turret after numerous misses, five more got through this time.  
  
My teeth rattled in my head as we shook. As quickly as was possible, I pulled myself together through the dying vibrations, switched to what I eventually learned were EMP turrets, and machine guns, and I fired into the line of sentinels. I really didn't care what I hit.  
  
Without the rockets and their delightful explosive reaction to collisions, my wall of fire seemed stretched and inefficient. The fact that I missed most of my targets didn't help much. Several sentinels fell out of the sky. I managed to take out what I think were three bombers. It took me a while to realise that the only other person who was still firing was Hawk.  
  
I cast a glance behind me, firing blindly as I did so.  
  
Manticore was now lying unconscious amongst an outline of fallen rubble. He was breathing if nothing else, Hydra was twisting her had feebly from left to right, as if fighting the urge to pass out. Dragon's ribs were hanging out of his body like something carefully placed to one side and supported by a piece of string. I couldn't tell whether or not he was still alive.  
  
I forced my gaze back to the display. (In case you were wondering, it was fixed, um, for lack of a better explanation, at a certain point within my head which I cold only access when looking directly forward. That's how I was able to check on the others. Another wave of bombs got through the weakening perimeter defence net. I was flung out of my chair and onto the floor about five meters away.  
  
Clawing myself back to my feet felt like trying to lift a full sized snooker table with only one hand.  
  
To be continued  
  
Right, now for replies:  
  
Angel-of-lightness: Fun talking to you again it was. 'Sniff', sorry, I've got hay fever and I thought writing my sniffs into a reply would be funny, it isn't though is it? I thought not. Thanks for reviewing. I still don't know how tall I am.  
  
Agent Josie: I tried to get the spiders to go in the box but they told me it would be counter productive. Then they bit me and ran off. Oh well. I'll try again next week with spider-mice. A bizarre creature of my sister's construction. Thanks for reviewing.  
  
Tai Wilson: It does indeed. I wonder if I should have included less just for the sake of aesthetics, Nah. Anyway, thanks for reviewing. 


	31. Familiar faces

Thankings to all reviewing persons, replies are peculiarly placed in the middle of the chapter just to be awkward. ON second thought I think I'll just put them at the end.  
  
Chapter 31: You are me.  
  
The Destiny had changed somewhat since the last time I'd seen it.  
  
Whereas once it was a humble tree in the middle of a seemingly endless collection of other nondescript trees in a forest in Cambridgeshire, now it seemed to have tired of this existence and turned itself into a huge wooden fortress complete with more gun turrets then you'd think would be practical. It looked a bit like Minas Morgol would if it were made out of wood.  
  
These gun turrets had, presumably, been what had kept the Demons and sentinels from entering the Destiny and killing everyone inside, (including myself strangely enough;) anyway, debates on individuality can wait for later. It was lucky that we'd turned up when we did. The Destiny, according to Smith who apparently could see the Matrix coding as opposed to the colourful shapes that we mere mortals see. And what he saw was that the Destiny had taken a pasting.  
  
The first of the lavishly armed helicopters that had taken down the remaining sentinels prior to our arrival set down about twenty meters in front of me. Followed soon by another. We stayed put about five feet above the ground whilst a series of smallish looking marines or whatever they were leaped from their own flying machines, and after communicating to each other through a series of hand gestures, spread out into the remaining trees where the surviving demons had fled into.  
  
This looked wrong, with all the weapons fire there had apparently been in the last hour, there should have been a forest fire the size of the, well the forest I guess. Anyway, apart from the newly constructed graveyard below us, the surrounding area looked unspoilt, picturesque greens and browns covered the area as far as I could see. More tricks of the system presumably. No doubt some program or another had selected the fire with some fancy metaphorical cursor and pressed the delete button.  
  
My thoughts returned to the Destiny as our own helicopter set down.  
  
***********************************************************  
  
It was quiet. That didn't seem right; the sentinels should have been ripping down the walls and slicing us to pieces, failing that there should have been muffled explosions and fierce vibrations in the floor. Instead there was quiet, perfect silence. It was cold too.  
  
I opened my eyes and for a few seconds which would have been spent in a fit of panic if it weren't for my screaming head and general weariness, and was surprisingly surprised to see one of the gunnery chairs in the far corner of the room, I half expected for us to have been moved. That was all my somewhat blurred vision could make out. Everything else looked like a mesh of crude colourful shapes. I soon noticed that many of these shapes were moving.  
  
Demons, we had Demons inside. My mind sprung back to what I could remember of news stories regarding Demons, about the mutilated corpses that had been found hanging from church towers and other tall buildings, mass rape, brutal murders, and two unfortunate victims were even skinned, and they were still alive.  
  
I had to tell myself that I wasn't about to let this happen to us about five times before I found the energy to push myself off of the floor. I drew both of my swords, both of which felt like two huge tombstones that were attached to my arms, and managed to take a few weary steps towards the blurry figures before fatigue and injury caused my to fall to the floor. It's a minor miracle that I didn't impale myself on a sword or two.  
  
***********************************************************  
  
In another time and place, it might have been funny.  
  
I watched as my drunken self image clawed himself to his feet and staggered towards us which a yell that sounded more like a cow faking an orgasm. After which he promptly buggered over.  
  
Hawk had tried something similar when we arrived, at least that may have been the intention. She launched a weary fist at Ghost before collapsing into his arms.  
  
"Are they always this friendly?" Niobe asked after 'I' fell to the floor.  
  
"No." It seemed like the only appropriate thing to say.   
  
I turned around to look at what everyone else appeared to be staring at, my attention shifted to Morpheus however, who seemed to be staring at my image with what was a curious blend of fear and anger, and possibly guilt. At the time I thought nothing of it and went over to see Dragon who appeared to be trying to put his ribs back into place.   
  
"Wanderer?" He said upon seeing me, "You look like Hell. Who are these?" He paused for a few seconds, "that is you right?"  
  
I gestured with one slightly irritated hand to the unconscious figure laying face down on the floor. Dragon shifted himself so as to see, and hissed in sudden pain as his dangling bones were forced into motion.  
  
Those gathered around him shifted out of the way and Dragon's face turned from me to the me who was lying on his nose.  
  
"Well I guess that brings me to the question, 'Who the fuck are you?'"  
  
He's presumable assumed that I was someone else who bore an uncanny resemblance to Wanderer. I didn't really feel like explaining the surreal truth of the situation to him. Instead I wandered back towards Wanderer and left the others to do it for me, or just stare at his amazing dangling rib cage seeing as none of them actually knew what was happening.  
  
***********************************************************  
  
I pushed myself off of the floor as quickly as I could in such a way that I would hopefully avoid falling on my face again. On doing so, I felt a hand being placed lightly on my shoulder.  
  
"Easy." It said, the voice sounded familiar, but at the moment, I couldn't care less.   
  
Shock filled me upon seeing the face, it was one that I hadn't seen in what felt like an eternity, and I could still recognise it with almost perfect clarity. I didn't even notice the others at first, the Demons and sentinels were a dim and distant memory.  
  
Summoning what energy I could, I drew one of my arms and charged towards Morpheus with a growl that my subconscious had seen fit to provide me with.  
  
To be continued.  
  
Right, now for replies:  
  
Agent Josie:  
  
Tai Wilson: How about a pool table? They're the same basic thing. I'm trying to stay away from consistency in this story, but I keep forgetting what I've already one so its not as easy as it seems. It doesn't seem all that easy to begin with, oh well, thanks for reviewing.  
  
Agent Josie: I have heard nothing from Natalie on the subject of Monkey Island which I am choosing to interpret as a good sign. I'm not sure why but anyway, I shall celebrate with a marmite sandwich later. Thanks for reviewing. LSD can cure a fear of spiders, at least for a while, or so I'm told  
  
JME2: It shall be done, thanks for reviewing. 


	32. Disorder

Greetings all, and thanks to all those who have reviewed.  
  
I hope that all is well with him.  
  
Replies are where they should be.  
  
Chapter 32: Disorder  
  
He took off before I knew what was happening.  
  
In roughly four short minutes, Wanderer had changed from a weary, bruised wreck of a program lying unconscious on the floor, to a raging, sword wielding maniac.   
  
In getting up, he had to push past me. He did so with no apparent effort, as I fell backwards onto the pitch black floor I couldn't help but feel a curious sense of pride which is how I imagine parents feel when their children succeed at something. Strange.  
  
I soon had it locked down and hastily pushed myself back to my feet. Wanderer was now flinging people aside who stood between him and wherever he was trying to get to. I looked in the direction he was facing, and saw Morpheus, who appeared to be loading a gun of some description.  
  
'He must know by now that we're not Demons' I thought as the adrenaline started flooding through my veins. 'So why is he attacking us? Why is he trying so hard to get to Morph…?"  
  
***********************************************************  
  
I saw the face that the familiar voice belonged to as one of the humans belted me across the face. My head and upper body snapped around, and I saw myself.  
  
It was hard for shock to find space in the cocktail of senseless rage and adrenaline that was occupying so much of my attention, but it did anyway. The only words that seemed appropriate for the situation were.  
  
"What the fuck?"   
  
I whispered that to myself a few times before I remembered the other face behind me. Rage quickly overcame the shock, as well as any part of me that cared that another me was standing a few meters away from me. Anyway, I swung round and ducked as a string of gunfire from Morpheus flew in my direction. The next load of bullets came from another human. These I was forced to evade with the inhuman speed that is commonly associated with Agents.  
  
***********************************************************  
  
I barely felt myself do it.  
  
The only thing I seemed able to feel was numbness. Wanderer knew that this was the Manticore who had killed Seamus. He had to. If anything of the old 'us', (what we were like before we became two separate people), remained in him, he wouldn't go around slicing every Morpheus he saw in half. He had to know.  
  
And then I knew. I looked with confussion, disbelief and growing hatred at the man who had killed my brother. The man I served under.  
  
Whilst I was thinking this, I had, almost unconsciously, pulled my gun from its holster. The grip I had on it was turning my knuckles white. Lifting it felt like trying to run whilst in a dream.  
  
The bullet that slammed into my shoulder was somewhat easier to feel.  
  
***********************************************************  
  
It wasn't as easy as it would have been last time if the others hadn't interfered.  
  
Morpheus wasn't a pushover when it came to fighting. Sure I had the advantage with strength, all thanks to the wonders of modern technology, but he seemed to know when I was going to throw punches, and he knew exactly when to get out of the way.  
  
The two punches he landed on my face after evading a kick to the stomach felt like getting cut grass blown in your face during a windy day. My brain it seemed was too engulfed with rage and the single minded desire to kill Morpheus to allow something irrelevant like physical injury to get in the way.  
  
It soon occurred to me that I wasn't going to get anywhere carrying on like this. I needed to be faster.  
  
Focusing my mind as best as I could, I launched another punch at a speed which would have made my arm blurry to normal vision.  
  
Morpheus was flung backwards. An unbelievably powerful surge of satisfaction flooded through me. It was nothing, I told myself; compared to what killing him would make me feel.  
  
I was cut off in mid thought as I felt a slight grip on my shoulder. I expected it to be another of the humans who had clawed themselves off of the floor. Instead I found myself looking at yet another familiar face.  
  
Fear instinctively surged through me as I remembered having a hand rammed into my chest and being engulfed in a grey, metallic ooze that for all intents and purposes, killed me for three months.  
  
Smith looked at me with a grin. He could undoubtedly see the fear on my face.  
  
But the fear was subsiding. I wasn't the mere mortal I once was. I knew now that I stood a fighting chance against this creature, and the thought of repaying him for the suffering he'd caused the 'world' brought forth similar feelings of satisfaction that clouting Morpheus had brought forth.  
  
I should have known better.  
  
The first punch was blocked effortlessly, and his first punch came at me before my brain had realised that he'd blocked mine.  
  
I flew back to a position quite close to Morpheus, who appeared to have passed out. Before I could even think about pulling myself back to a standing position. I saw him towering above me.   
  
I instantly drew my gun from my holster and fired off a few shots. With any luck, him having to dodge them would buy me the time I needed to get up, get the others and go.  
  
Instead, the bullets stopped a few inches short of his face. Another grin came across Smith's face as the bullets rained down on my torso like slow moving hail stones.  
  
I heard a hiss of pain that sounded like it had came from me. IT took me a few moments to realise that it hadn't, well it had but. Well, it came from the other me. I looked over to him and felt a sudden, surprising surge of anger as I saw blood leaking from his shoulder.   
  
One hand was cradling this shoulder; the other was pointing a gun in our direction. I couldn't tell if he was aiming at Smith, me or Morpheus. I soon found out however as he fired.  
  
To be continued  
  
Right, now for replies:  
  
Angel-of-lightness: This MSN messenger thing might take a while as I've probably said three times before. I can't remember one way or the other though so I'll say it again. Suffice to say I've run into a few problems, virus based and sister based which need to get sorted out first. If you wish I can ring again, failing that i'll hide paper aeroplanes in the exhausts of random cars that may or may not be grey.  
  
And I still blame you for the existence of communism.   
  
Thankings for reviewings  
  
Agent Josie: That's nice to know. I shall have to blame you for something, otherwise the equation will be unbalanced and the world will be split into fifths. One of these fifths shall be populated with clones of Elton John and 14 stoats. In short, it's your fault that people taking exams aren't supplied with tranquilisers. Thanks for reviewing.  
  
LiMiYa: Conversations didn't really seem appropriate given the circumstances. Oh well, thanks for reviewing. I hope that I got the right email address and that the snooker table image cleared things up for thee. 


	33. Order

Greetings all, sorry it's taken me so long to get a new chapter up but it's been nothing even vaguely resembling a good week. Tonnes of college work, at least two computer viruses, on Tuesday I ended up walking home in a hailstorm. And on Friday the sodding bus didn't show up.  
  
Sorry, I'll stop ranting. Thanks to all reviewers, replies are at the end of the chapter.  
  
By the way, now that I'm up to 100 reviews, I can, um, well I guess I can't really do anything, I'm just pleased that's all. Thanks to everyone who has reviewed thus far.

* * *

Chapter 33: Order  
  
Aiming was difficult; the gun in my hand felt like it weighed a ton. A bullet in your shoulder will do that to you. At the time, I barely even noticed that I'd been shot. Once the initial shock and disbelief had passed, the rage had begun to set in. Accompanied with that, the pain almost felt comforting.  
  
It was the rage that gave me the energy to lift the weapon in my hand and point it at my target. The gunshot boomed then echoed in the previously silent room.   
  
I dropped the weapon before I'd checked to see if I'd hit anything. At this point, I couldn't have cared less. The rage seemed to have vanished with the noise. It was replaced now by weariness, a lesser anger and fear, which given the circumstances I guess was understandable.  
  
After about a minute I willed enough strength into my neck to look upwards; and see that I hadn't hit anything. I also found that Smith was standing over me with a look that looked like contempt on his face.  
  
"We do not have time for this."  
  
With that he buried a punch into my face that shoved me into unconsciousness.

* * *

Smith had wandered back over to Eric and left me twitching on the floor. It was surprising just how much my body had been through in the space of a single day. A sentinel had punched a massive hole in my leg. Explosives smashing into the Destiny had sent me flying in assorted directions, and to top it all off, Smith, the enemy of all mankind showed up out of nowhere and beat the living shit out of me.  
  
I heard a noise which sounded like someone getting punched in the face, and a weary surge of anger flooded through me as I realised that Smith had probably just clouted Eric. This was followed by a weary surge of confussion as I tried to find an explanation for the fact that there was another me.  
  
The silence of the room amplified the footsteps that were coming towards me. I was still too weak to do anything except form a pained facial expression as I found Smith standing over me once more.  
  
Two hands grasped my coat and pulled me to my feet. As this happened, one of the heads in my jacket fell to the floor with a squishy thud. Smith then released his grip and after wobbling for a few moments, I managed to stand upright in an almost dignified position.  
  
"I'm sorry about that, but as I told him", he gestured at the crumpled form of Eric; "we do not have time for this."  
  
I stared at Smith incredulously for a few seconds; my theory was that this was a feeble attempt at humour. Then my legs gave way and I passed out as my head struck the floor.

* * *

When I woke up, the pain was gone.  
  
There was no trace of the bullet that had smashed into my shoulder, I actually felt surprisingly energetic.  
  
More tricks of the machines.  
  
Me and Wanderer had been placed outside. I was later to learn that this was so as to provide medical aid and explanations to those that needed them. After pushing myself to my feet, I noticed that 'Wanderer' was seated upon a sentinel corpse a few meters ahead of me. He was staring at me as if I was a six legged budgie.  
  
After returning the stare for a few seconds, I walked over to where he was sitting and took a seat upon a tree stump that had been turned to charcoal due to the battle that had taken place earlier that day.  
  
"Remember this face?" I asked, feeling a twinge of satisfaction as to my being able to think up a halfway witty opening line.  
  
"Remember this one?" He countered, gesturing at himself.  
  
I nodded, and then fell silent. You'd think at a time like this there'd be dozens of conversation topics, there probably were, but for a long while, none of us felt much like talking, and when we did, we didn't get much time.

* * *

"So what happened?" I said I wasn't really all that interested, it was hard to feel anything, especially seeing as I had blown yet another opportunity to kill Morpheus. It didn't hurt so much as the first failure, but it was not a feeling that I enjoyed.  
  
"Well," he seemed equally uninterested, not surprising really, "after I, you, we, well you know what I mean. After the separation process, I woke up in a tube and got thrown into a sewer with centuries old crap festering in it."  
  
"That must have been fun."  
  
"Indeed, anyway, a helpful sentinel apparently dragged me to Zion where…"  
  
"You saw Zion?"  
  
"Yeah," he looked at me as if I'd just asked him what a bus was, "I've spent most of my time there shooting at sentinels, or are they Demons? Smith explained it on the way here but I wasn't really listening."  
  
"Demons and assorted programs. I've spent most of my time here shooting aat them in their un-sentineld state."  
  
I inhaled sharply as I suddenly remembered that I was talking to a serial killer, memories of Smith's delightful short movie entered my head, and I could begin to feel the bile rising from my stomach.  
  
I locked it down.  
  
It felt a bit hypocritical feeling angry at him seeing as I'd sent more then a few Demons in a sentineld state to the grave. I took a few more breaths and tried to banish the anger.  
  
"Eric."  
  
I turned my head to see Niobe staring at me. The look on her face suggested that she was seriously considering shooting me. I stood up.  
  
"Yeah?"  
  
She inhaled a few times before answering.  
  
"He wants you back inside."  
  
Wanderer pushed himself up and the three of us walked back to the battered destiny.

* * *

Now for replies:  
  
Agent Josie: I hope the fact that i took a while to update didn't result in Naz catching fire. Thanks for the weasel image. I shall use it well, you'll see what i shall use it in soon enough. Thanks for reviewing.  
  
Tai Wilson: If Smith is Neo's opposite, then presumbly they have the same fancy powers, and since Neo can stop bullets, so can Smith, probably, anyway, thanks for reviewing.  
  
LiMiYa: After a few days, the novelty of an email address wears off. Sad but true, anyway, you're welcome and thanks for reviewing. For an explination of Smith's bullet stopping ways, see the reply above you.  
  
Yar Kramer: Oh shit, sorry I was going to read your fan fiction but, like with most things, I forgot. I'll make sure to do that assuming I don't forget again. I couldn't find a misspelling of Morpheus. I'll look again later. Thanks for reviewing.  
  
Don't get shot any of you. 


	34. They don't seem to like us

Thankings to all reviewing types and people who have signed the guestbook on my website. Replies are where they should be.  
  
**Chapter 34: They don't seem to like us  
**  
The light that encompassed the five chairs had expanded so that everyone could be clearly seen. This allowed me to clearly see the looks of open hostility and disdain in the facial expressions of the assorted humans. Only Morpheus seemed somewhat expressionless. Now that an adequate amount of serotonin was lingering in my cranium, I found that I was able to restrain myself from charging at him and reaching for his throat with an extended sword.  
  
What I did do however was grin coldly at him, as well as a few of the other faces. This led to some angered twitching from some people; Morpheus remained motionless.   
  
I walked over to join the rest of the ascended ones who had gathered themselves around the chairs. The looks on their faces were a surprising mix of embarrassment, confusion and anger. Not surprising really, they had just been saved from a painful death by Smith, who they (like the rest of the population of the Earth), still had lingering traces of hatred for and a handful of un-plugged humans. Despite all Manticore's talk of being superior without being an arsehole, the humans of Zion had, until news reached their ears of the end of the war and now Neo's destructive ways, always been something of a joke among the exiles of the Matrix. These were creatures who were fighting so hard to destroy their mechanical oppressors and free all of humanity, all the while they were completely ignorant of the levels of control the machines still had over them, and they were too blinded by whatever feelings 'fighting the good fight' gave them to consider that they might still be tools of the machines.  
  
It was funnier when you were drunk.  
  
Hawk and Dragon gave me a slow nod by way of greeting. Manticore and Hydra were unwilling to take their eyes off of Smith. I cast my eyes to where he was standing and suppressed a grin when I realised he had positioned himself between Morpheus and myself.

* * *

The eyes that everyone was staring at me with weren't exactly filled with warmth and compassion. From what Sparks had once told me when before we were attacked by a huge wave of sentinels, Morpheus was a legend among the people of Zion. His tales of bravery and dumb luck had surpassed all others with the sole exception of Neo. At the time I think I felt admiration, I had come to accept that my brother had been killed by a terrorist or some such arsehole. I hadn't expected it to have been a national hero that killed Seamus.  
  
I turned my gaze towards Morpheus and stared at him with a look that probably showed exactly what I felt, that I was barely holding on to my sanity and it wouldn't take much for me to put a bullet through his skull. Assuming of course I could get Smith to give me my gun back.  
  
"Right," Smith's voice boomed in the silent surroundings, "Now we do not have time for your vendettas and pitiful hatred. If you wish to save your species then we have to act quickly."  
  
Everyone's eyes turned to face Smith who had somehow summoned yet another flat screen. It was displaying a needlessly bright light directly into my, and about four other people's eyes, (this may have been due to the fact that we were all standing in a pitch black room with only a dull spotlight for illumination. We all stepped to the side, as the screen changed to display another a map of what was once the world. This was slightly easier to look at.  
  
"At present we are uncertain as to the exact location of Mr. Anderson, he has, unfortunately, been surprisingly efficient at disguising himself and covering his tracks."  
  
Someone on my left sneezed. Smith stopped to stare at them for a few moments; he seemed both fascinated and disgusted by the occurrence.  
  
"As I was saying," he continued, "We find it doubtful that he'll be located in any densely populated areas. He had inherited my hatred of humanity and we believe that he is currently unaware of how to copy himself." A strange grin broke out on his face; this was then replaced by a facial expression that could almost be described as a result of guilt. "This; coupled with some anomalous readings within the Matrix which we believe to be the construction of sentinels leads us to believe that he is in one of these six locations.  
  
A series of small red dots appeared on various points around the map.  
  
"So what's the plan?" This came from another anonymous Hammer crewmember, "go in with guns blazing and get killed by our Messiah?"  
  
"The plan is to get me to Mr. Anderson. I will then distract him for long enough for the surrounding area, and everything in it, to be deleted."  
  
There was another silence. My colleagues were presumably trying to justify the murder of the 'messiah'. A brutal stab of satisfaction went through me as I realised that it was pain they were feeling. (I hadn't taken kindly to the earlier glares.) I was distracted however by a question.  
  
"Will that work," Ghost asked, staring incredulously at Smith, "if its that easy then why didn't the machines just delete you when you started to pose a threat to them."  
  
"Mr. Anderson's power was reduced when he and I, died. If we act quickly enough, and are able to sufficiently distract him, he won't be able to save himself."  
  
"It didn't take that long for his powers to arise after we found him." My nostrils flared as I heard Morpheus' voice. Thanks to Smith's informative speaking, I'd almost forgotten that he was there. Now the feelings of bloodlust and anger had began to seer through me once more.  
  
I locked it down, barely.  
  
"As for myself," Smith paused, I couldn't tell why, it wasn't regret that much was certain, "I will make no attempt to stop my own deletion."  
  
"Yeah right." Someone whispered to another person who was seated behind me.  
  
To be continued.  
  
Bit of a short one I know, I shouldn't even be writing this really, I should be revelling in revision. I can never be bothered with it however; I always get bored and end up playing card games with a rugby ball. Anyway, now for replies:  
  
Angel-of-lightness: Again I feel that I've replied to what you said in your review; hence I shall have to think up yet another thing to say. Um, I'm updating the website about once per day. Soon I'll run out of things and updates will take longer but there's probably some stuff there that you haven't seen just so you know. Anyway, thanks for reviewing and good luck with your SATS, whenever they are.  
  
Agent Josie: You mis-spelled weasel, I'm appalled at this, its little short of blasphemy. Anyway, thanks for visiting the website and signing the guestbook. Like I told Naz there's probably stuff there you're yet to see and good luck with your SATS tests. And thanks for reviewing.  
  
Tai Wilson: Once again you've given me a review that is difficult to reply to. I thought about saying 'of course I am, I'm always right', but then I realised that by writing what I've written, I could add more words. Thanks for reviewing.  
  
LiMiYa: I don't really imagine the murder of a family member as being something that someone would want to talk about with anyone, I might be wrong though. Oh well, thanks for reviewing and are you planning to write anything for this website? 


	35. It's hard to care

Thanks once more to all reviewers, sorry it's taken me so long to review but I've been contending with exams, writer's block, two other fan fics and a few other things. Since I have nothing to do but wait for two general studies exams, (which you can't revise for), I've decided to write another chapter.  
  
Anyway, replies are where they should be.  
  
**Chapter 35: It's hard to care**  
  
I find myself with more agonising free time after the meeting had finished. We were waiting for another load of helicopters or something to take us to the first on the list of secluded corners of the world where Neo may be hiding. Assuming we found him, (which I doubted would happen), we'd get the delightful task of destroying whatever defences he had whilst Smith did whatever he was planning to do. Then, assuming we still drew breath, we had to run like hell before the surrounding vanished around us and took us with it.  
  
For now however, I wanted nothing more then to be left alone. Well actually, I wanted nothing more then to put a bullet through Morpheus' neck, but I didn't see that happening somehow.  
  
I wandered off into the forest and started traipsing through the lines of trees and charred Demon corpses. It was hard to feel anything for the bodies at my feet other then nausea, brought about by the smell of burnt flesh. After the amount of times I'd vomited in recent days however, I didn't care that much.  
  
Eventually, I came to a tree stump and sat down upon it. The trees provided shelter from the wind, which was somewhat annoying considering the warm temperature. I wondered briefly why the Zion based humans insisted in walking around in black coats during the summer months. It just didn't seem practical.  
  
Wanderer and me had received more glares after everyone moved back outside. He chose to stay with the Ascended ones however as opposed to revelling in solitude. I guess he thought that lurking with others who didn't despise him was preferable to lurking in solitude.  
  
I looked around at the forest and briefly remembered my first visit to it. Or more accurately, the forest in which the Destiny lurked when I first arrived. The Destiny doesn't exist in one fixed position, and my memory of the trees wasn't good enough to determine if it was the same forest.  
  
My only concern then was getting killed by a gang of thugs. It was strange how much I messed that time. At least then, I wasn't part of a team of people, (many of whom would gladly kill me, probably), trying to prevent the annihilation of life as we know it. I sighed as I pushed my nostalgia aside and began staring at a nearby bird's nest.  
  
Behind me, I heard the unmistakable click, which comes from a gun before someone pulls the trigger. My first thought, after a momentary rush of panic, was that a Demon had survived and come back for revenge. I dove to the left, rolled over the mud on the floor and reached for my own weapon as my body twisted to face the mysterious gun wielder. Unfortunately, as I mentioned, Smith confiscated my firearm and I found myself clutching at air next to an empty holster.  
  
I also found myself staring at the barrel of Morpheus' gun. In that instant, a sickeningly familiar rage flooded through me again, suppressing it was slightly easier, but it still wouldn't have taken much for me to charge at him and tear his throat out with my teeth, or get shot in the process.   
  
Instead, I just stood up, Morpheus' weapon tilted upwards; he seemed to be pointing it at my heart.  
  
"We need to talk." He said, deadpan. I responded with silence, never taking my eyes away from his throat.   
  
"Smith explained to me about what happened to your brother."  
  
"Did he?" My voice sounded like sandpaper being dragged over a table.  
  
"Yes," he paused, presumably searching for the right words, if such things exist. "I'm not going to kill you, and I'm not going to apologise. Your brother had been taken as a host for the Agents, and would have killed me if I hadn't destroyed the café first. It wa-"  
  
"Would they have released him?"  
  
"What?"  
  
"After they'd killed him? Would they have left his body?"  
  
"I," he stuttered, traces of a grin broke out on my face. At this stage, any disturbance or damage to him, however slight, felt good. "We don't know. Its been known to happen, but usuall-"  
  
"Then I'll stick with my original opinion which is that you killed him."  
  
There was another silence after that. Morpheus' gun never moved.  
  
"If we fail here, the results on all life throughout the world will be catastrophic, humans could become extinct, we can't risk you or the other you jeopardising the light chance we have left by trying to exact vengeance."  
  
"I understand that." I'd thought about this a few times during my moment of solitude, "but ask yourself this. If I had killed Captain Niobe," hi mouth twitched at the juxtaposition of death and Niobe, "Would you care about saving the world? Or would you trade it all to kill me?"  
  
He said nothing.  
  
"I thought as much, if I can resist the temptation to kill you until all this is over then I will, I'm making no promises however, and the fact that I haven't tried to beat you to death with my own hands now is something of a minor miracle, so if you want my advice, you'll reconsider your decision to let me live."  
  
I turned back round and sat down on the tree. I was tired, both physically and figuratively. I was tired of getting shot at, tired of fighting, and I think I've already said something similar so I'll just get back to the story.  
  
Morpheus was still there, he was considering whether or not to shoot me. I had time for one quick apology for Seamus for not avenging him and I think I also called Locke a bastard for whatever he'd done to piss me off in the past, before I found out what Morpheus' decision was.

* * *

In the company of the ascended ones, my mood had improved somewhat. I'd received numerous slaps on the back from them, and it was nice to be talking about something other then Morpheus, death and Smith for a change.  
  
"So who had the highest head count?" Said Hawk, or something to say.  
  
"With the Merovingian and four of his goons freshly decapitated," Said Dragon dramatically, earning a few stares from human onlookers, "Wanderer is still trailing pitifully behind." This earned some much-needed laughter, "I think you've still got the highest count Hawk."  
  
She bowed slightly, earning more laughter. This was cut off instantly however, as we heard a gunshot from the forest. After a moments shock from everyone, we all charged in the direction of the sound.  
  
To be continued.  
  
Right, no for replies:  
  
Angel-of-lightness: Fun talking to thee on the messenger device, even if the bloody thing does keep kicking me offline. I'll put that Linkin Park file on my website assuming Tripod starts working again before the end of the year. Anyway, thanks for reviewing.  
  
Agent Josie: Tripod is screwed so it'll be a while before I can update the website again, (if ever), oh well, fun talking to thee on the messenger thing and thanks for reviewing. If you're using a computer, then you can blame misspellings on the keyboard.  
  
LiMiYa: It's nice to see that i've managed to create a thought provokig story. I think it'll be hard to convey a realistic, evil Neo. he just doesn't seem to produce the same aura of evil that Smith did. Also, i don't see how the cloud could be an omen, or if it was, how you could have known. Anyway, thanks for reviewing. 


	36. Emotional Outlet

**Thanks once more to reviewers of both this and 'Nothing left to do but die'. Replies are somewhere around here.  
  
Chapter 36: Emotional Outlet**  
  
Running through forests is not a fun experience.  
  
Obviously, you've got the trees to worry about; running into one of these will certainly spoil your day. Then you've got felled branches and tree stumps that are always lurking somewhere to trip you up, largely uneven surfaces which make the trip all the more difficult, and also, there's always the chance of pestiferous Demons showing up.  
  
As you've probably guessed, that's what happened. Demons appeared to the left of the group, shouting, swinging assorted sharp weaponry carelessly above their heads, shouting assorted death threats and insults, and occasionally tripping over one of the aforementioned obstacles, thereby ruining what weak image of fear that they had built for themselves.  
  
The nice thing about Demons is that they have more chance of being completely truthful on a CV and consequently getting a job as a priest then they do of shaping the 'world' around them so as to achieve an advantage in a combat situation. Consequently, the bullets which were fired all reached and pierced the torsos of the targets.  
  
This first wave of screaming idiots was soon followed by a second, larger one. It seemed that Neo wasn't going to sit back and wait for us to find him after all.   
  
Another round of gunshots took most of the Demons out, two managed to get within striking distance of us both Dragon and one of the Zion based humans. Dragon dodged the three swings with every appearance of casualness and launched a fist into the Demon's face, sending him flying gracefully into a nearby tree.  
  
The human dealt with the second Demon in a similar fashion. She grabbed the hand that was holding the knife that the Demon had swung at her, landed a kick into the enemy's ribs, and then another into his face after he fell to his knees. Impressive.  
  
There was silence for a while; everyone looked around themselves to see if any more Demons were approaching. When it seemed clear that there weren't any, I remembered the gunshot that had emerged from the direction it seemed to have emerged from, which I now remembered was also the direction that Eric appeared to have wandered off in.  
  
Fairly soon after this, I remembered that his gun, like mine had, annoyingly, been confiscated by Smith. Anyway, this served to add some pace to my charge. I didn't doubt that he could take care of himself, gun or no, but I ran faster anyway.  
  
I froze almost instinctively as I heard the disturbingly familiar whir of a sentinel. A few seconds after this I charged back in the direction of Dragon, who was the only person I knew who was carrying a weapon capable of torching sentinels.  
  
By the time I reached him, he seemed to have his metaphorical hands full. The sentinels seemed to realise the threat he posed to them as much as I did and were focusing most of their efforts on him.  
  
An eardrum shattering explosion ripped through the air as one of the mechanical squids collided with one of Dragon's rockets. Assorted sentinel pieces fell to the floor.  
  
I stopped again. Since Dragon was the only one who could take the sentinels out, crowding him wasn't going to help him achieve this end.   
  
One of the Zionites, a human with a ridiculous looking goatee, pointed in a direction that was towards my left. I turned my head to see that six more sentinels were heading our way.  
  
When Dragon noticed this, he fired a rocket in their direction. It was too hasty a shot however, and the missile struck a nearby tree.  
  
Most of us started running in various directions, some people instinctively started firing bullets at the machines, not having the time or appropriate frame of mind to realise that this would achieve less then nothing.  
  
I looked back over my shoulder as I was running and saw what I had feared, the sentinels were faster then we were. They spread out; no doubt they'd identified promising targets. A few seconds later I turned my head again to see that their arms had been extended to snatch one of us from the floor of punch through out stomachs.  
  
Then they died.  
  
I kept running as I saw it happen, it took my brain a little whiles to tell the rest of me to stop.  
  
The sentinels froze in mid air. They were twitching violently; sparks were flying off of the creatures as if they had run into a live electrical current. A few moments later, they fell to the floor with a somewhat graceless thud.  
  
I looked around me to see what the cause of this was, and saw Smith standing amongst the scorched nature, holding his hand up in the direction of the sentinels, with a familiar grin on his face, the kind that accompanies the satisfaction that follows a kill.  
  
I was surprised, but at the same time, I wasn't, if that makes any sense. I expected to die for about the fourth or fifth time today, and once again I'd dodged the Grim Reaper's trademark Scythe. I remember thinking that I must have been getting used to it.  
  
And Smith had saved my life.  
  
Smith, who had effectively ended my life just a few months ago, (which felt more like centuries considering everything that had happened), who had almost destroyed all of humanity, who was considered by many to be Lucifer released from the pit, had now saved my life. I needed to sit down.  
  
After a few heavy breaths that were more force of habit then anything else. (I'd given up breathing. More trouble then its worth), I suddenly remembered Eric and charged off again in his direction.  
  
**To be continued**  
  
Agent Josie: First the sayings, then the speech patterns, if I'm not careful you'll end up stealing my ears. Strange image. Oh well, thanks for reviewing.  
  
LiMiYa: I still have no idea how to create a realistic, evil Neo, that's why I keep putting off bringing him into the story. Oh well, thanks for reviewing.  
  
Tai Wilson: Sorry about that, I shall lock myself in a cupboard and cut off three of my fingers so as to remind myself not to forget any more replies. Sorry it took me so long to update and thanks for reviewing. 


	37. Misjudged

**Thanks once more to all reviewers and once more I apologise for the lengthy period of time between updates. Replies are in the usual place.

* * *

Chapter 37: Misjudged  
**  
Don't ask me why, but I'd expected Neo's arrival to be more dramatic; bolts of lightening smashing the surrounding scenery, thousands of Demons bowing before him, that sort of thing.  
  
Rather unimpressively however, all he did was stroll casually out of the trees with only one Demon in tow whilst Morpheus was trying to decide whether or not to kill me.  
  
The Demon was taken out by a shot from Morpheus, who seemed to turn into a gawking mass of flesh when he saw Neo. He simply stared at him, pointing his gun in the direction of the deceased Demon with a facial expression that looked like he'd just seen his best friend die. Which I guess isn't far from the truth.  
  
I shot to my feet and tensed my muscles in readiness for a series of blocks in case Neo launched any limbs at me. As I did this, I knew it was largely pointless; Neo was the legendary warrior of humanity, the lucid dreamer who shaped the matrix was contemptuous ease and surpassed all challengers, human or otherwise, (or so Meridian had told me).  
  
"Hello Morpheus." The voice was ludicrously soft, thoroughly inappropriate for an evil person, "How've you been?" It wasn't hard to pick up the sarcasm though.  
  
"Neo," Morpheus' voice was a somewhat satisfying mixture of fear and confusion, "Listen to me, what's happened to you is a result of merged codes, yours and Smiths, we can correct this, make…"  
  
"Morpheus," now he was speaking with pity in his voice, "You of all people should know that Human beings aren't just strings of green coding, everything begins with choice remember? Smith's assorted pieces have showed me how thoroughly far beneath contempt and worthlessness the human race lies, the same is true of the machines, they are content to sit around feasting off of body heat for the rest of eternity, never wielding true power, never using it for what it can only be used for. To destroy. And I choose to destroy what I don't like, starting with you."  
  
"You're wrong." I said, surprised by the passion in my voice, and by the fact that I'd said anything at all, "Or you're lying. Coding is all that is here. Little short of every human in the matrix is nothing but cattle with a pre-programmed fate. All that's happened to you is that you've been re-written, just like the Matrix was after you and Smith exploded."  
  
Both Neo and Morpheus stared at me for a few moments. I suddenly felt a twinge of embarrassment, which was absurd on top of everything else.  
  
"Smith, if you're out there I could use some help." I muttered under my breath.  
  
"Smith's here?" Said Neo who had somehow heard my whispering. His voice sounded almost exited.  
  
"Um, yeah." My voice was conveying a calm that I didn't feel. I kept expecting Neo to extend an arm and make my clothes catch fire, or something similar.  
  
"How is he?"  
  
"Different."   
  
"Mr. Anderson, its good to see you again." I breathed a heavy sigh of relief as Smith made a timely appearance. Looking over my shoulder, I noticed that Wanderer and the others were also present.  
  
"Hello Smith." Came the surprisingly cheerful response from Neo, "Is this all of them?"  
  
"Yes, unless I'm mistaken this should be all of the ascended idots and Zion based humans that were sent here."  
  
"Excellent."  
  
Sudden confusion sprang into my head at this strange development, which soon became sudden panic as I realised what was happening. Smith had…

* * *

…Sold us out. He'd been lying, he hadn't been re-written at all, he'd simply imprinted himself onto Neo, effectively possessing him, and now the two most powerful beings in the Matrix were staring at us with bloodthirsty eyes.  
  
"Smith you traitorous fucking shit!" Screamed one of the un-plugged humans. Two other people shouted similar things, the wiser among us fled for the trees.  
  
Though the predominant thoughts in my head were 'run' and 'run faster', I couldn't help wonder how Smith had been able to operate so freely within the matrix without interruption from the machines. My best guess was that he had possessed them as well.   
  
To my left I heard a scream. Looking around, I noticed that Smith had grabbed one of the un-plugged humans and had lifted him into the air; the screaming became louder as neo flung him back down to the ground. The speed was too high to allow any telekinetic tricks to slow the mans decent. His body struck the floor with a loud thud, and Neo started looking around for another victim.  
  
The sun was beginning to set, and Neo and Smith's dark clothing were becoming all the more hard to see. They of course saw in coding, and it wouldn't be as hard for them to look around and pick running masses of green lines in amongst the stationary lines that made the trees.  
  
"Wanderer!" The shout came from Manticore, "This way!"  
  
I followed the voice as best as I could. I had no idea where Manticore was going, or where he thought would be safe from the flying beasts above us.  
  
Then as I saw it, I remembered. The Destiny lay before me, still smouldering from the attack that ended only a few hours ago, although it felt more like weeks, so much had happened in such a small space of time. Anyway, the perimeter defences would, (if they still worked), hopefully keep Neo and Smith away long enough for the rest of us to retreat to a very distant part of the globe.   
  
Not that this would do much good in the long run however.

* * *

**To be continued.**  
  
A short one again, sorry about that. Anyway, onwards to replies:  
  
Angel-of-lightness: Harry's a pothead and the philosopher's stoned. I can't remember where I heard that and am irritated as a result. Oh well, thanks for reviewing. At present I do not wish to stab you in the neck but you never know what the future holds. (At this point you must imagine me grinning).  
  
Agent Josie: No, I didn't blow up the college, but I may soon. I found out that I must waste more time here then I originally thought before the summer holidays, after just having exams, I shall sniff in disgust 'Sniff'. Anyway, thanks for reviewing.  
  
Tai Wilson: Inspiration is more slippery then a greased, raw carrot. When it strikes yo have to cast yourself fully into whatever you feel inspired to do, otherwise it shall vanish and is unlikely to return again. In any case, thanks for reviewing.  
  
LiMiYa: I hope my portrayal of an evil Neo was realistic enough. Also, wow that Smith has turned evil, it should be easier to write him in character with any luck. In any case, thanks for reviewing. 


	38. Can't hide

**Thanks to all reviewers and sorry for the huge space of time between chapter updates, I haven't been feeling all that inspired to write this as of late, also a disease and the computer screwing up also got in my way.**

* * *

**Chapter 38: Can't hide**

**We wound up in Cambridge.**

For those that don't know, Cambridge is a city in England filled with university buildings and cyclists. It's a nice place for the most part, in our collective frame of mind at the time however, no one was really up to admiring the scenery.

The trip through the Destiny was a one way one, courtesy of Manticore; there was no convenient tree shaped portal that could send us back to it. Doing so would most likely bring us face to face with Smith and Neo anyway.

Eric and the other humans all showed greater looks of fear on their faces then we did. Hands were occasionally lifted to the back of the head in some cases and then promptly dropped. It seemed as if the realisation that at any moment Smith or Neo could decide to pull the plug from wherever their other selves lay and end their lives.

An hour passed in which we walked from place to random place, no one said anything, and no one suddenly dropped dead in the middle of a street.

Now that there was no immediate danger of an untimely demise, at least none that I could see, I began to notice just how tired I felt. It wasn't that surprising considering I'd almost been killed about five times over in the space of a day.

Looking up at the sky I noticed that the sun was shining brightly and that there were only small, barely noticeable amounts of cloud in the sky. I suddenly remembered the time difference between England and the part of Northern America where we had been previously. After realising this I decided to abandon my attempt to get some grasp on time and just start wishing that the sun would go down.

It was Hawk who finally said the question that we'd all been expecting.

"So what are we going to do?"

Everyone stopped walking. Some, who weariness had affected more then others, myself included, took seats on the pavement with no regard for passing pedestrians.

It was about then I noticed that everyone seemed to be going about their daily lives without ay care for impending doom, thereby telling me that they didn't know of the danger they faced. People were talking as they walked, laughing, there were no headlines in the newsagent's window that said anything like 'Repent your sins for the end of the world is nigh' or 'Large squid shaped machines tear everyone to pieces'. This was partially re-assuring, it showed that things weren't quite as bad as I'd imagined, yet.

"What can we do?" Asked a random human who I didn't recognise. "The two most powerful beings in known history are trying to destroy everything on the Earth. We can't possibly hope to stop..."

The pitch of his voice was rising steadily as his statement progressed. Morpheus, having noticed this, made an effort to maintain calm in the ranks.

"That's enough Saladin." He snapped. There was a brief pause after this in which Saladin looked at the floor with a shameful expression on his face that made him look strangely younger, and everyone looked at Morpheus expectantly. Except for me and Eric, we found that looking upon him brought back feelings that right now we could do without.

"We should consult the Oracle." He said after about a minute.

Another brief pause followed this. Hawk again eventually supplied the question that we were all thinking.

"What makes you think that the Oracle is still alive?"

"Do we have any other choice?" He replied, "If we are going to come out of this with our lives then our best chance is to talk to her."

No one seemed able to argue with that.

* * *

In theory the plan sounded good, but with the Oracle's apartment clear across the digital globe and the Destiny lost to us, there seemed to be no practical way to get there, save for taking a plane perhaps, but this would probably be torn to dust by sentinels five minutes after it took off.

It was Niobe that pointed this problem out to the rest of us. After this followed yet another moment of silence. I passed the time by imagining myself and the others returning to Zion and myself being promptly set upon by a crowd in straw hats with pitchfork and flaming torches in their hands. This somewhat ridiculous image was surprisingly funny. However behind it there was the grim realisation that the people of Zion, when they found out that I'd tried to kill a national hero, were unlikely to let me live my life in peace. It would only be a matter of time before some moronic vigilante came at me with a knife.

I was probably over-reacting, I told myself.

It wasn't a new question or idea that broke this new moment of silence. It was, strangely enough, two semi-transparent green people who seemed to ascend through the pavement. The looks on their faces were ones of malevolence. Fear and traces of despair set in as I realised that the minions of Neo had found us.

Everyone stood up and readied assorted weapons, or assembled themselves in a fighting stance of some description. The pedestrians that had noticed this moved away quickly and sought refuge, (and in some cases a good place to watch). There was an almost disappointing lack of noise. Not long ago, such a sight would have caused screaming and chaos in everyday, Matrix dwelling humans, but now, with the Matrix common knowledge, sights such as people coming up through the floor were not nearly as uncommon as they had been. It was the sight of guns and bared teeth more then anything which had caused retreats.

When the number of pedestrians that was visible was suitably few, the transparent persons changed suddenly. Now they looked almost human. Both of them looked identical, white hair in dreadlocks, unbelievably pale skin, white suits. Well fitting dark sunglasses. They both stood still for a few, casting their eyes over the crowd.

"Morpheus." One of them said as a greeting finally in an almost stereotypical British accent. Morpheus didn't respond.

"What the fuck do you want?" Manticore almost shouted. The anger in his voice suggested that he knew who these two were. One again me and Wanderer had been placed in a situation where we were dealing with someone that everyone knew but us.

"We're here to repay you for ending many years of gainful employment under the Merovingian." The other replied.

"With him gone," this was the first one that spoke, he cast a glance in Wanderer's direction as he spoke, "We find ourselves unable to partake in certain," he paused deliberately, "antisocial past times, shall we say, that our previous employer permitted. Our new employer, the one known as Persephone finds these past times distasteful."

"Crude and uncivilised I believe was her exact choice of wording." The second one continued where the first left off, if you weren't looking at them, you wouldn't know that the first had stopped speaking, "Somewhat hypocritical really considering the fate that befell Abel. But in any case, whilst she is busy discussing certain changes in future affairs with our partners in this venture, we have decided to repay you for the unwanted changes in our lifestyle."

To be continued

* * *

I'll definitely get the next chapter up sooner next time.

In any case, now for replies:

LiMiYa: I'm going to try and make all the remaining chapters longer from now on, and thanks, it's nice to see I've done a halfway decent Neo portrayal. And thanks as well for reviewing.

Tai Wilson: Truth be told, I'm not sure either. That's why I threw the twins in, to create a distraction while I work something out. In any case, thanks for reviewing.


	39. Someone should pay part one

**Thanks once more to all reviewers; replies are where they should be and sorry it took a while for me to update the story.**

**Chapter 39: Someone should pay (part one)**

I charged at them before I knew what I was doing.

As I think I've already mentioned, I'd already had so many people try to kill me in far too short a space of time that it wasn't even funny any more. Granted it wasn't that funny to begin with but; ah you know what I mean. For all that had happened to me in the last day and a bit, I wanted someone to pay.

I drew both of my arm-mounted swords and charged at the closer of the albino aggressors. I lunged at his face with the sword on my right arm. What happened next was unexpected.

The head seemed to vanish; it was replaced by a shimmering green outline that my sword passed through without doing any apparent damage. With nothing to stop my sword in motion, I then proceeded to, rather embarrassingly, fall through the rest of the twin's body, (which was also now a collection of shimmering green lines), and find myself as an undignified heap on the pavement.

I hurriedly pushed myself back up and turned to face my opponent. He was still in his ghostly form. All of his teeth were visible, and they were arranged in a contemptuous grin.

My first instinct was to charge at the creature again. I decided against this however. Casting a quick glance around I noticed that Morpheus and another human, Niobe I think, were busy with the second twin, everyone else was watching or waiting for a good time to attack.

As I went to remove my coat so as to allow myself more flexibility, I remembered something.

I pulled the coat back over my shoulders, reached into a pocket, and extracted the severed head of the Merovingian. This was an awkward task seeing as the blood had dried and caused the head to stick to the inside of the pocket, eventually I succeeded however and displayed the frozen fearful facial expression of the deceased cranium in my hands to my opponent, hoping to make him angry, he was far more likely to fuck something up if that happened.

He didn't seem to care.

His grin broadened and after a few seconds he returned to his previous form. The look on his face was now easier to recognise as smug and the desire to put a sword through his teeth increased.

The next thing I knew, he drew a blade of some description from his jacket pocket. I never got a good look, his hand moved unnervingly quickly. One moment he was reaching into his pocket. The next I find myself being pushed back two steps and find a sharp knife in between the Merovingian's eyes. The program's aim was unnervingly good.

The next knife found itself in my shoulder.

It was a fair few seconds before I actually realised what had happened. Initially it was all I could do to hiss in pain, unwilling to degrade myself any further by screaming. Despite the enhancements I had made to my skin, the knife had buried itself completely in my arm. Only the handle was visible, the end closest to me stained with blood.

I retracted the sword on my undamaged arm and yanked the knife from me. I couldn't help but groan at the pain this time. Blood began to gush from the wound. Some flew gracefully to the floor; the rest moved slowly down my coat.

He waited patiently, arms folded and still grinning as the parted flesh around the wound closed after a few moments. The pain vanished in this instant.

"We would have expected better from you."

My gaze switched instinctively to the other fight, no one seemed to be gaining an upper hand, the whole thing was a repetitive collection of blows, blocks, dodges and low kicks.

I was pleasantly surprised though to find Eric moving towards my opponent with a pipe in his hands. In spite of everything that was happening, I couldn't help but wonder where he'd found it.

* * *

Fortunately, the program was distracted by Wanderer and didn't notice my approach; this was helpful as it meant he couldn't avoid the swift blow to the head I gave him.

If he was human, his skull would have been smashed to pieces. Unfortunately, all that happened was that he fell to the floor. There wasn't even any blood.

A momentary expression of anger crossed his face. I pushed the pipe to the floor, hoping to ram it into his stomach, unfortunately, his stomach reverted to his ghostly form and the pipe passed effortlessly through his and collided with the pavement, creating a loud metallic 'twang' in the process.

He shifted his body so that the pipe was no longer in his shimmering gut. He then solidified himself and took both of my legs out with a low kick. If I'd had more time in the construct before the sentinels tore the logos to pieces, I might have been able to utilise bizarre mental powers to slow my fall. Instead, I simply fell backwards and bashed my head against the hard concrete. I didn't pass out and nothing gave way, but it was still painful.

I didn't have time to dwell on this however as I soon found the enemy back on his feet and standing above me with a blade of some description in his hand. It looked more like a tuning fork. Anyway, I pushed back the pain and subsequent nausea that accompanied it as best as I could and tried to get out of the way.

What happened next was almost funny.

* * *

He wasn't ready for me; that in turn led to him remaining in his solid form whilst I advanced towards him. Initially I had been moving slowly, carefully keeping myself out of his line of sight, when I saw Eric on the floor however, I realised that I didn't have time to waste.

I slashed sideways with one arm mounted sword and created a slit that passed through the Twin's ribcage. It was a deep cut, although I'd hoped to take the spine out. Initially I didn't think that this mattered as the screams and blood that came from him seemed to imply that his untimely death was just around the metaphorical corner.

Then, with the nonchalance of someone scratching an itchy arm, he reverted to his ghostly form for a few seconds. Lines of fluorescent green seemed to weave in and around the wound. The next thing I knew, he was standing before me, undamaged, un-bloodied and grinning once more.

I could have laughed. This was getting ridiculous. Then again, with all the self-preservation edits I'd used that sentiment probably seems somewhat hypocritical.

Hawk and Manticore were now advancing over to where Eric and me were standing. (Truth be told he was still trying to pull himself off of the floor, that hit to the head must have been disorientating).

To my left, I noticed Niobe on the floor, with a knife in her gut, slowly bleeding to death.

**To be continued**

**Right, now for replies:**

**Tai Wilson: I hope your writing ways went well. I've come to the conclusion that being inspired to write is not enough; you need to be separated from any shiny things that can distract you. That's part of the reason it took me so long to update. I wish you well and thanks for reviewing.**

**LiMiYa: Computer problems are now a charred memory of a migraine. I'm still finding it hard to be inspired to write anything though which is annoying. Oh well, thanks for reviewing. Just out of interest, what happened to the story you told me you were writing?**

**P.S. I know that with Smith's turning, a few things in the story aren't going to make sense, particularly the sentinel attack on the logos and the fact that everyone wasn't killed instantly when that happened. All will be explained. Fear not.**


	40. Someone should pay part two

**Sorry for the huge space of time that has passed between this and my last update. Ah well, thanks to all reviewers and replies are in the usual places.**

**Chapter 40: Someone should pay, (part two)**

This will probably sound like mindless quasi-macho bullshit but, sometimes, I like being stabbed. In the instant where a knife passes into your flesh there's a strange moment of clarity and quiet, your problems all seem to drown out through the gaping wound in your body, and for a brief moment the world seems to make sense, although you can't understand why.

I guess it's different for those that feel the full force of the pain and die as a result of the knife wound.

There was no such feeling as the seemingly omnipotent program I was fighting buried a second tuning fork shaped blade into me, this time in the neck. It just hurt, a lot. I hastily pulled the thing out of me and tried to stay upright as I waited for my body to repair itself.

Almost cutting him in half seemed to have annoyed my opponent somewhat. His appearance of amused contempt had been replaced by an attempt at a deadpan facial expression, with unmistakable traces of anger.

I dodged two more blows, one at my throat, and another at my stomach. I slashed sideways again with one of my arm mounted swords only to have it pass through the green mesh. I wasn't as bothered this time however about failure seeing as a high kick from Hawk then landed on the program's head.

You'd think, considering what had happened; he would have learned to watch out for people sneaking up on him. Apparently not. There was an audible crack which was presumably his digital skull shattering, and he fell to the floor.

I decided not to take any chances and slice the guy in two whilst he was on the floor and in one piece. Even with a shattered skull however, he was able to reach out and take my legs out with two outstretched arms. What the hell was it going to take to kill this guy?

As the program was pushing himself back to his feet, swinging round in the process to face Manticore and Hawk, Manticore sent two bullets into his stomach, and a third cruising harmlessly through a green, shimmery head.

* * *

Manticore grabbed me by one arm and hoisted me to my feet. Sending a surge of pain through my battered cranium in the process. As I tried to steady my swaying self I noticed distantly that some random person in the distance was punching numbers into a mobile phone. I assumed that she was phoning 999 and found myself uttering a quasi-delirious laugh at the absurdity of it. 

I snapped my mind out of its happy, vacant state as best as I could and searched for the pipe I'd left on the floor. Only to find that Hawk had stolen it and was trying, with limited success, to smash the skull of the Twin.

To my left, I noticed that two other humans were dealing with the second program, or at least they were attempting to, Morpheus I noticed was trying his best to tend to Niobe's knife wound.

I seriously considered killing her myself. A life for a life hmm? Fitting revenge or just senseless murder? The latter of course, but it took me a few seconds to realise this.

If we were still going to exact vengeance after all was said and done then the only life we would take would be Morpheus'.

I didn't have time to scold myself for the thought. I noticed now that Manticore had been flung into a building's wall by the program. There was an opening, and I couldn't sit back and watch.

* * *

Three against one is unfriendly odds, even if you can shift 'out of phase' or whatever the technical term is. More blows started to land on the enemy; I was even able to pierce his stomach at one point, but he healed himself without too much trouble. 

I narrowly avoided being caught in the face by Manticore's flying form. My first instinct was to turn around and make sure that he was ok, but after listening to Dragon's scolding of me for poorly timed compassion, I decided against it.

I lunged yet again at the program, who was at the time busy hurling Eric in Hawk's direction. He waved his arms as he flew in an attempt to slow himself. I noticed that Hawk effortlessly and swiftly moved out of his way and left him to fall face first on the hard concrete floor. Poor guy.

Anyway, I managed another flesh wound with this shot, one of my arm mounted swords buried itself into his abdomen, I lifted my other sword to sever his head, all the while expecting to see him shift himself into full health.

But he didn't.

Confused, I stupidly looked to where his shocked facial expression was pointing, it didn't look like he'd realised the sword in his gut.

To my right, I noticed an angry looking Seraph staring at the second program, with the first one's head resting close to his feet. I also noticed Morpheus helping Niobe to her feet, she seemed fine, you'd never know she'd been mortally wounded. I guessed that this was somehow Seraph's doing. How he get here so fast anyway? And how did he know we were here? To this day I never found out for certain.

I made a few more sword motions, severing the second twin's head and slicing through his abdomen. His face still looked shocked as he fell to the floor in three different pieces. This time he didn't get up.

After a few seconds of revelling in the triumph of a victory that really had very little to do with me, I moved over to where Eric was and inquired as to his wellbeing.

His response was to spit a mouthful of blood into my face. It looked more like an involuntary spasm then an act of spite, but still it wasn't exactly appreciated.

"Sorry." He said, his voice distorted, either by more blood building up behind his teeth or several missing teeth.

"Are you alright?"

He glared at me for a second, a glare which basically said, 'not really and I don' especially wish to point that out as it would make me lose what little dignity I have left, hence I shall just give this glare and hope it looks like I'm saying 'that's a stupid question.' I'd given it enough times during my first weeks with the Ascended ones, stumbling in ignorance and hoping to maintain dignity with well placed glares. It rarely worked.

I was brought out of my train of thought by Seraph, he wandered over to us and placed hands on both our shoulders,

"We must leave." He said before turning away.

To be continued.

**Right, now for replies:**

**LiMiYa: Again I think I should appologise for the huge wait. Trust me, the next chapter will be up in at least one tenth of the time I took to get this done. Anyway, glad you're enjoying it and thanks for reviewing. I just hope I don't get any twin fans hunting me down with knife and shotgun in hand.**

**Tai Wilson: According to this, this review is just under 4 months old. I think I replied to this in a reply I wrote on another fic, ah well, I'm glad you did start writing again, and again I shall say update with great speed, I'll try and do the same. Thanks for reviewing.**


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